


violence may not be the answer, but it's certainly less work

by anon_carrots



Category: Naruto, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Mineta Minoru Doesn't Exist, Blood and Gore, Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia Manga Spoilers, Canon-Typical Violence, Crack Treated Seriously, Crossover, Fluff, Found Family, Friendship, Gen, Hidan (Naruto) Swears, Humor, Jashinism, Midoriya Izuku Has One for All Quirk, Minor Character Death, Morally Ambiguous Midoriya Izuku, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Shinsou Hitoshi Replaces Mineta Minoru, Swearing, Vigilante!Hidan, he's not sure how that happened either, hidan adopts izuku, izuku doesn't become a jashinist don't worry, no idea where the anime and manga overlap tbh, probably, this is an excuse for me to inflict hidan on the world of bnha
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2021-04-18
Packaged: 2021-04-22 15:55:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 33,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22188493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anon_carrots/pseuds/anon_carrots
Summary: After his fateful battle with Nara Shikamaru, Hidan is resurrected in a world of bizarre technology, Quirks, and Heroes. He has no idea why his god brought him here—until Jashin takes an interest in a certain green-haired boy.“He crouched in front of bright green eyes, which gazed at him calmly amid the wreckage of bodies and blood, washing the streets red and gold in the setting sun.“...what’s your name?”“Izuku. Midoriya Izuku.”And that was how Hidan ended up with a kid.”Updates sporadically
Relationships: Hidan & Midoriya Izuku, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 463
Kudos: 1766
Collections: Clever Crossovers & Fantastic Fusions, Deku Has A Brain, Rain Recs





	1. this child didn't come with an instruction manual, can i get a refund?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just an excuse to inflict Hidan on our favorite BNHA characters. Please don't think too hard about the plot and the various crossover inconsistencies because I certainly didn't. I'm just here to snort coke and have a good time.  
Blanket warnings for Hidan and all the swearing, violence, and shenanigans he comes with.

  
  


Hidan sneered, dragging his scythe through his calf as the man across from him screamed. 

“Fuckin’ wimp-ass heathen.” He was barely worth sacrificing to Jashin-sama—but it had been far too long since Hidan’s last sacrifice, and he felt his connection to his god waning by the day. He’d had to trek deep into the questionable heart of the city to find this guy, sneaking around in the dark in a way that made his skin crawl. Hidan always preferred to do his business out in the open, like a fucking man; but he knew he couldn’t afford to draw attention to himself in this world.

That damn green brat better appreciate the lengths he went to in order to keep suspicion away from their shitty-ass apartment. 

He drew a slice across his chest. The man shrieked and writhed in agony. 

“Shaddup, bitch,” he groaned. He could already feel the heady rush of energy as his godly connection strengthened. The more pain he inflicted (and suffered), the stronger the ritual, after all. 

He scored a cut across his bicep. And another, down his ribcage. A stab through the foot for good measure.

The man soon fell quiet, bald head glistening darkly under the flickering street lamp. Guess it was time to finish things before the heathen fucking bled out. Hidan stabbed his scythe into his chest, relishing in the sound of bone crunching and blood gushing.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be with Jashin-sama soon,” he gurgled to the man, grinning. With that, he died.

When he awoke, he felt better than he had in days. The man’s mangled body had barely cooled as he wiped his scythe off, clearing out Jashin’s symbol from the concrete under him as he mumbled the finishing prayers for the ritual.

Rifling through the man’s blood-soaked clothes, he pocketed a wad of cash (there’d better fucking be enough to cover the next month of rent); the rest of the wallet only contained the small plastic rectangles everyone here seemed to carry, which were entirely useless to Hidan. He tossed the leather pouch over his shoulder and continued searching. Keys, more weird plastic shit… 

Something crinkled. It was a foil packet—chewing gum. The white tablets were soaked through with dark blood. Hidan grinned and popped one into his mouth, relishing the bite of peppermint and tang of copper on his tongue. Giving the body one last look, he stepped over the man’s corpse and walked away into the moonlight. His fucking job here was done, or whatever.

“Hidan-nii! Hidan-nii!” A green blur slammed into Hidan’s side, interrupting his morning meditation. “Guess what?!” 

“A huge-ass lizard just came out of the ocean and is gonna eat this entire fucking city?” Hidan growled irritably. “And how many times do I have to tell you to quit fucking calling me that, nerd?”

Izuku grinned. “Nope! And guess again!” His eyes were round with excitement. 

“You blew up a bank and now the police are out hunting your ass?” 

“Nope!” Izuku said, continuing to exude his patented aura of puppies and unicorns. It always made Hidan want to puke (even if it was admittedly useful to sic the kid onto the nearest old lady to con her out of some snacks or groceries). The kid shook a sheet of paper in his face. “Look what came in the mail!”

Hidan eyed the paper with disdain. “Spit it the fuck out already, nerd. It’d better be worth interrupting my meditation for.” 

“I got into U.A.! All-Might himself told me in the hologram!”

“...huh.” Actually, that’s pretty impressive for the pipsqueak. “Guess Jashin-sama  _ really  _ liked my sacrifice last night.”

Izuku’s face immediately flushed, and he clutched the paper to his chest like he was in some fucking shoujo anime he liked to watch so much on the grocery store TV’s. “You made a sacrifice just for me, Hidan-nii?” He squeaked. 

“Not a chance,” Hidan snorted, “I did it while praying for Jashin-sama to shut your whiny ass up about,” he pitched his voice to a breathy soprano, “ _ ‘All-Might and his awesome Quirk that I love so much I wanna marry it and what if I don’t live up to his expectations and am a massive pain in the ass to the amazing Hidan-sama— _ ’” 

Izuku threw his arms around Hidan’s middle “Thanks, Hidan-nii!” He beamed up at Hidan. “I couldn’t have done it without you!”

“Whatever, brat,” he sighed gruffly, “now get outta my fucking space and lemme pray.”

“I’ll go get dinner for tonight to celebrate, then,” Izuku said, scrambling to his feet. “See you later!”

The screen door banged shut. Hidan huffed to himself, settling back into his meditation pose and closing his eyes. He could finally begin his daily prayers, no thanks to certain green-haired gremlins who vomited rainbows and distracted him from his sacred duties. 

Dinner better be fucking good.

— — — — — 

When Hidan had awoken in this strange new world, he’d had nothing but his scythe and devilish good looks to his name—literally. He was buck-naked and freezing when he finally came to in the dead of night. 

His last memory had been that of cursing out the shitty Nara asshole in the shitty dirt pit his head was in, after the shitty Konoha shinobi had blown him up. Wherever he’d ended up was nothing like anywhere he’d ever gone in the Elemental Countries, however. The ground was too tough beneath his bare feet, the buildings too tall, the streets too loud. At least his body was intact, a quick peek down assuring him that he’d arrived with all his limbs (and his dick, thank Jashin) accounted for.

But speaking of his god, why had he resurrected Hidan here? What did Jashin-sama want him to do? Where  _ was  _ he? 

If he were a lesser man, he suspected he would’ve stood there in that nasty-ass alley for hours in shock. As it was, Hidan considered these questions for all of two seconds before shrugging, picking up his scythe, and merrily wandering off in search of a sacrifice. Jashin-sama worked in mysterious ways, after all. Who was he to question the divine will of his god? 

Plus, he  _ really  _ needed some clothes.

Hidan quickly learned several things: 

One, it was still socially frowned-upon to brutally murder people and loot their mangled bodies (even if they  _ were  _ heathens), judging by the screaming that had issued from a passer-by when they discovered said bodies. 

Two, the people spoke a similar, if not the same, language he’d spoken in his old world, although the hysteria was just as hard to understand as before. Why couldn’t people just speak clearly?

Three, everyone here seemed to possess unique bloodline-limits. The random guy he’d sacrificed first had lashed out at him with some sort of weak wind jutsu, which wasn’t too odd; the second guy had honest-to-Jashin snakes for hair that snapped and hissed at him when he got too close, which  _ was  _ odd. Even the passers-by that screamed for fucking years had something weird about them; whether it was blue skin or electric fingers, no two were alike to one another. 

Four, if people made enough of a ruckus, random freaks in costumes would show up, presumably to try and help. From their demeanor, Hidan figured they were law-enforcement of some kind, perhaps even similar to shinobi (they certainly dressed just as shittily). Whoever they were, though, he took them as his cue to leave. No fucking way was he getting caught by a guy with fucking  _ wings _ . 

Five, this world was fucking weird. He didn’t understand the metal death contraptions whizzing by him on the road, or the bright buzzing lights outside of buildings with obscenely clean glass windows, or the lack of maneuverability in his newfound outfit liberated from the corpse he’d made. 

That was alright, though. Jashin-sama would provide. All Hidan had to do was survive until his god made it clear what his purpose in this world was.

He’d discovered the green-haired brat a couple months later. 

There’d been a whole gang of those shitty Villain-looking assholes (damn, this new world was real creative with their naming) hanging around a back alleyway he frequented, and Hidan was in the market for some sacrifices. 

What a happy coincidence. 

Three deaths later, Hidan came to in the usual fashion, with blood and prayers on his lips. He rolled onto his feet, lazy swiping a hand through his soaked hair. 

“P-please, please h-help,” a sob came from his left.

Hidan whipped around. “What the fuck,” he snarled—he hadn’t noticed anyone but the heathens he’d sacrificed in the alleyway with him. But now he saw a child, hunched over the limp body of a woman bleeding out on the ground.

“M-my mother,” the boy sobbed, fat tears rolling down his chubby face, “t-they hurt her, a-and now she won’t—she won’t m-move.” 

Hidan warily stalked over to the pair, eyeing the woman closely. Her dark green hair was stained black, billowing out around her head. There were small, circular puncture wounds littered across her torso, likely inflicted by the strange exploding weapons some assholes seemed to favor in this world. 

Her eyes fluttered. “...’zuku…” she murmured. “...safe?” 

“I’m f-f-fine, Kaa-chan,” the boy cried, “b-but you’re hurt!”

The green-haired boy turned round, watery eyes on Hidan. “C-can you h-help her, m-mister? ...p-please…”

Judging by the size of the blood pool around her, she’d been beyond saving since even before Hidan had arrived. His connection to his god twinged; her pain and suffering filled him with a heady rush. He swiped his scythe through her blood, while drawing the symbol of Jashin with his foot.

“Your suffering is sacred,” he intoned solemnly to her, bringing his scythe to his tongue. “Jashin-sama will show you peace.” Black and white markings raced across his skin, and the boy gasped. 

The woman let out a labored breath. “...keep him… safe…” she murmured.

Hidan didn’t waste any time inflicting more wounds; Jashin-sama was already smiling upon her. He stabbed his scythe into his chest cleanly. The woman slumped a final time, her face relaxed from her previously-pained grimace. Hidan prayed.

He closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the boy was staring at him from across the woman’s body. 

“Did you help her?” he asked. There were dried tear tracks down his cheeks, but he seemed oddly calm and water-free now.

“...yeah,” Hidan said gruffly. “Her suffering is over. Jashin-sama will be good to her.” He stood, wiping his scythe down his shirt and wondering why the kid wasn’t freaking out.

“Thank you,” the kid whispered. He definitely had something odd with his head. Most heathens would be screaming and running by now.

“...thank Jashin-sama, not me, kid.”

Normally, this would be the time for Hidan to cut and run, no matter how weird the kid. Leave him for the Hero assholes (who was in charge of naming conventions here, a fucking baby?) to take care of. It wasn’t like he needed any more sacrifices for the day, and Hidan was feeling uncharitably generous in the face of the bountiful harvest he’d had.

Except Jashin-sama’s presence felt stronger than ever, his god’s interest in the kid flaring through their connection. Light flashed in Hidan’s eyes, momentarily blinding, and in that moment Jashin-sama whispered in his head. 

_ The boy is chosen. You are chosen. Ensure his survival, my loyal disciple. Such is my will.  _

Jashin-sama had spoken.

He crouched in front of bright green eyes, which gazed at him calmly amid the wreckage of bodies and blood, washing the streets red and gold in the setting sun. 

“...what’s your name?”

“Izuku. Midoriya Izuku.”

And that was how Hidan ended up with a kid. 

They’d lived the first couple of months on the run, Hidan furiously dodging police and other various law enforcement searching for Izuku (usually with him tucked under Hidan’s arm like a sack of rice due to bullshit like ‘average children can’t keep up with shinobi speed and endurance, not to mention chakra usage’). The kid was precious cargo—he was Hidan’s mission, entrusted to him specifically by his god. No way he’d let him out of his sight.

Eventually, though, Hidan had been forced to concede that life constantly on the move wasn’t great for Izuku. Kids needed to eat and sleep, for some reason. After a bit of scouting and employing the few brain cells left rattling in his head, he’d found an apartment complex that was just shady enough that the landlord didn’t mind them living in a room without proper paperwork with shit like proof of identity or whatever. Hidan provided the requisite threats of bodily harm and looted cash to convince the guy to let them stay indefinitely; Izuku had been delighted by the dusty couch and beat-up futons and creaky table the apartment had come furnished with. 

The kid seemed resilient. Other than nightmares here and there from watching his mother die, he was always relentlessly cheerful and disgustingly adorable. Also, he immediately developed the infuriating habit of calling him “Hidan-nii” when Hidan had made it clear he wasn’t leaving him behind. No matter how much Hidan swore at him, the kid kept using the name, too. Fucking asshole. At least he knew how to use the weird technology shit in this world. 

At any rate, Hidan was able to eke out a life for the two of them over the years. He’d wake up in the morning, pray, feed Izuku, teach him about the gospel of Jashin, sacrifice a couple heathens every now and then, feed Izuku (again!), listen to the kid babble about his dreams of being a fucking Hero, pray some more, let Izuku play outside, feed Izuku (how much did he need to eat?!), train on the roof, and finally go to sleep. 

Not too shabby a job, if he did say so himself. He hoped Jashin-sama was proud.

— — — — — 

Hidan and Izuku stood outside the gates to the fancy-ass school. Hidan was wearing his best non-blood-stained civilian outfit, which he’d grudgingly donned to spare Izuku the stares he’d undoubtedly get on the subway if he’d worn his usual gear. Plus, he was supposed to make sure the nerd made it there safely. Probably couldn’t do that if he got stopped by the police ‘just to talk’ at every turn.

The nerd in question was practically vibrating next to him. He’d bought new school supplies with his own pocket money the week before (what a waste, they could’ve bought so much fucking food, where the hell even were Izuku’s priorities?); decked out in his stiff uniform, new backpack strapped around his shoulders, the kid looked like a light breeze would knock him over. 

“We’re here,” Hidan drawled, nudging Izuku. “Aren’t you gonna fucking go in, bitch?” A passing student shot him a scandalized glare. He flipped her off. She looked even more scandalized.

“I…” Izuku croaked, “...I’m really here, at U.A…” Were those stars in his eyes?

“Where else would you be? The fucking moon?”

The kid turned watery eyes on Hidan. Shit. Did he know any water jutsu he could use to clean snot off his clothes? Fuck, of all the times to have a fucking earth affinity...

“My dream is coming true,” Izuku said, shakily. “All thanks to Hidan-nii’s help.” He started sniffling. “You’ve always done so much for me…you’ve always accepted me, even without a Quirk…” Liquid started pouring from his eyes. “And you helped me when I got All Might’s Quirk…” More liquid started pouring from his nose.

As a last-ditch attempt at self-preservation, Hidan grabbed the kid by the backpack straps and shoved him toward the school gates. “Blah, blah, whatever, you’re gonna fucking be late! Scram, nerd!” 

Izuku’s eyes widened comically, and he scrambled to gain his footing. “Right!” He yelped, running through the gates. “I’ll see you after school, then! Bye, Hidan-nii!” And with that, he disappeared into the throng of students outside the front door. 

Shit, that could’ve been way worse. Hidan pat himself on the back for a crisis averted, throwing in a quick prayer of thanks for good measure. Now, as long as the green nerd didn’t break himself again from that fucking Quirk he’d conned out of All Might, Hidan might even be able to relax while the kid was at school… 

Aizawa Shouta sneezed, waking himself from his morning nap with a sense of deep foreboding. He frowned. It was too early for the entire class to have arrived already, so there was no point in going to the trouble of showing up just yet. But there wasn’t quite enough time left to fall back asleep… damn, the year was already off to a troublesome start.

Speaking of troublesome, his thoughts wandered over to the student profiles he’d been skimming over last night. Of the files, one of them stood out as particularly troubling: Midoriya Izuku, a boy who’d been officially missing for five years, according to police records. He’d vanished from all public record around the same time Midoriya Inko, his mother, had been found murdered. And then, after years of fruitless searching by the finest of the police force, he turned up at the U.A. Entrance Exams. 

“I know this is highly unusual,” Nezu had said during their emergency staff meeting, “for us to continue with our offer of admittance to Midoriya Izuku. I have been working in conjunction with Chief Tsuragamae in regards to how we will approach this case, and considering his position of interest in connection with the Chinoike Serial Killer case, we have elected to allow him to attend U.A. as a student in order to ascertain his safety.”

(The Chinoike Serial Killer. Shouta knew the case well; he’d been actively investigating it for nearly a year now. Named for the sheer brutality with which victims were murdered, the killer was the most elusive suspect the police force had ever encountered. What little DNA evidence recovered turned up nothing in their databases; there was no obvious pattern linking victims, no trail to lead them to the source of the killings. 

The only thing in common about the victims was always some sort of shady personal history; some had yakuza ties, others engaged in petty crime, still others were outright Villains… at any rate, the killer’s Vigilante-like behavior was the only reason the police force was able to keep most of the details of the case from the media. Shouta could only imagine the panic such news would incite.) 

“Furthermore, Aizawa-kun,” Nezu continued, “Tsuragamae-san and I would like to assign you a special task.” He folded his paws.

Shouta rose from his slouch attentively.

“We will be placing Midoriya-kun into your homeroom class, 1-A. As his teacher, our hope is that you will eventually be able to gain his trust, perhaps learn some details about his disappearance. Due to your familiarity with the Chinoike case, we felt you would be the best choice to handle this delicate situation.”

Which led him back to the current moment. Midoriya had demonstrated a rather concerning lack of self-preservation during the Entrance Exam, what with breaking his entire body to hell and back—was that indicative of an abusive home life? Familiarity with violence? Or did he just have an incredibly unfortunate Quirk?

Shouta groaned. He’d used up his last moments of peace from that flashback. He would just have to wing the first day, use it to observe Midoriya. Then come up with a plan of attack later—after the requisite amount of grumbling and whining to Hizashi, of course. 

This was shaping up to be a long year. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ‘Chinoike’ is the name of the clan that wiped itself out, which Hidan discovered in the valley of hell while he was still living in Yuugakure. according to the naruto wiki, it means ‘blood lagoon.’ Spooky!  
This idea literally came to me in a dream; it was hilarious and awful at the same time (much like hidan). So naturally, I had to write it.  
Rest assured, Izuku will not become a jashinist, even if he adopts some of Hidan’s philosophy by proxy of living with him.  
Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think!


	2. put your fingers in the air like you just don't care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Izuku's first day of school, and he couldn't be more excited to meet new friends, make memories, and become a Hero!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blanket warnings for Hidan’s swearing and language, primarily potentially offensive insults he uses. Also, slight warning for a moment when Aizawa suspects Izuku might be abused; it’s not true but Aizawa is just trying to interpret the limited evidence he’s presented.
> 
> Finally, I’ve replaced Mineta with Shinsou; Nasty Grape Boy conveniently doesn’t exist here. How did Shinsou pass the Entrance Exam to get into Class 1-A? Easy: magic. 
> 
> Please enjoy!

“Oh!” Izuku offered his hand to the person he’d knocked over while trying to enter his classroom. “I’m so sorry, that was all my fault!”

“Eh, don’t worry about it!” The girl replied. Then they took a good look at one another. 

“Ah! You’re the one from the Exam!” Izuku exclaimed.

“You’re the one that saved me from the zero-point robot!” The girl gasped at the same time. “I never did get your name… I’m Uraraka! Uraraka Ochako! Thank you for your help!” 

“Midoriya Izuku,” he replied, bowing. “Looks like we both made it into the Hero Course. I wonder how it will be…”

“Well,” Uraraka said, drawing herself up. “Only one way to find out! Let’s go in!” She pushed the door to Class 1-A open, and Izuku followed behind her, practically vibrating with excitement for what his future at U.A. would bring. He took a step inside— 

—and came upon chaos. Peering out from behind Uraraka, the first thing he noticed was the blond boy with black streaks in his hair, who seemed to be pranking those around him by shaking their hands and shocking them upon making contact. A pink-skinned girl was yelling at him, while a black-haired boy with odd-looking elbows howled and clutched his arm in pain. 

Behind them, a red-haired boy was having an arm wrestling competition with a boy with multiple arms, mask concealing his lower face. A girl with long strings attached to her earlobes whooped loudly, while a blond boy sat next to them and just… sparkled.

“Putting your feet upon the desks is strictly prohibited by the classroom rules!” To the side, the tall boy with glasses Izuku met at the Entrance Exams seemed to be rather upset. “How unseemly! This is no way for a student at U.A. to behave!”

“Yeah? Fuckin’ make me take ‘em off, then,” a voice drawled in response. Izuku couldn’t quite see who it was, but it sounded familiar. Maybe because Hidan-nii spoke the exact same way? At any rate, his attention was drawn to the seating chart posted on the blackboard at the front of the classroom. Better find out where his desk was, start getting comfortable with the layout of the place where he’d be learning. He walked toward the board, leaving Uraraka at the entrance, seemingly entranced by the showdown between the two boys.

“Ah! Seat number eighteen,” he said. “Aw, Uraraka-san, you’re seat five. That’s on the other side of the classroom.”

“H-huh?” She finally noticed him at the front of the room. “O-oh, dang. At least we can talk at lunch and during breaks, I guess.” Uraraka glanced back at the quarreling duo. “Uh, should we do something about that?”

Izuku shrugged cheerfully. “I personally don’t have a problem with putting feet on desks,” he explained, “so their argument isn’t really my problem, is it?” He headed toward his desk. “I’m going to start setting my things up at my desk, but we can talk more after homeroom?” He asked Uraraka.

“I—yeah. Me too. I’ll go—to my desk, then.” She waved weakly. “Talk to you later!” He waved back.

Izuku set his backpack down on his desk, right behind the person he could now see as a spiky-haired blond, who had been arguing with the glasses boy the whole time. Curiously, however, he’d gone pale and fallen completely silent when Izuku walked into view. 

“Hello!” He greeted the blond and the glasses boy. “My name is Midoriya Izuku! It’s nice to meet you both.”

“Iida Tenya!” The glasses boy straightened smartly. “Pleased to meet you as well! I hope we can get along. I sit at number four, but I was—” he glared at the blond, “ —making rounds to meet all my classmates.” 

The blond boy remained silent, jaw hanging open. Iida seemed rather offended by his behavior.

“I think we met at the Entrance Exam,” Izuku said cheerfully. “Great to see we both made the cut!”

“Ah,” Iida said, “I remember now. Yes, I too am glad to be your classmate. I am looking forward to our first—”

“DEKU!” The blond roared, interrupting Iida, who spluttered indignantly. “You’re Deku!” His voice was shocked, but Izuku wasn’t sure why. “Why— how—”

“Deku?” Izuku tilted his head. “Only one person used called me that…” He squinted at the blond, before realization dawned. “Kacchan! It’s you! I almost didn’t recognize you!” 

“You—” Anger flared through his red eyes. “SHITTY DEKU! I thought you were dead! My mom told me your mom died! And the fucking police couldn’t even find you for all these years,” he exclaimed, breathing heavily. “Why turn up now?! What happened to you?!” 

Izuku beamed in delight. “Aw, Kacchan! Did you miss me?” He clapped his hands. “I’m so touched that you thought of me, and I’m happy to see you, too!”

Iida was staring at both of them now with an expression of hopeless confusion. Before Kacchan could say anything else, however, a voice spoke up near the front of the room. 

“So noisy…” it said. “Settle down, now, class should have started five minutes ago.” Iida immediately shuffled off to his seat, guilt flashing across his face. Izuku half-rose out of his seat slightly to take a better look at the front of the room. The voice seemed to be coming from near the floor…

Something bright and yellow flopped out from behind the teacher’s podium. There was a face attached to it, which opened its mouth to speak again. “Good morning, class…” It stood up. Izuku was reminded of a gargantuan banana. “I’ll be your Class 1-A homeroom teacher.” 

The man unzipped himself from the yellow sleeping bag (how ergonomic!), letting it drop to the floor. He glared at them all dolefully from under unkempt bangs. Izuku made a mental note to ask Hidan-nii for advice concerning camping necessities for his future Pro-Hero kit. 

“My name is Aizawa Shouta, but you can call me Aizawa-sensei,” the man yawned. “I’m an underground Pro-Hero, and I go by Eraserhead because of my Quirk.” He scratched his cheek. “Before classes begin, we’re going outside to take a Quirk Apprehension Test. Go change into your gym clothes.” 

Iida’s hand shot straight up into the air. “Aizawa-sensei! Don’t classes at U.A. usually start with a standard orientation procedure?”

“Ah,” Aizawa said, “that may be true. But this is my class, and I can do whatever I want.” With that, he slumped away from the podium. The class erupted into whispers.

“Gym clothes! Cool!” Izuku chirped to Kacchan. “I can’t wait to see what they look like!”

Kacchan looked, for a moment, like he was about to explode from rage, but Izuku wasn’t sure why. He simply waved cheerfully to the blond boy before jogging to catch up to Uraraka and Iida, who were talking further ahead. 

The test seemed simple enough. Each of the exercises were tailored to test some sort of physical attribute their Quirks could potentially enhance. Kacchan blasted through each course (literally), while others like Iida and Shoji excelled at specific tasks. Unfortunately, Izuku figured he shouldn’t use One For All for the test, seeing as both Recovery Girl and Hidan-nii had chewed him out for breaking his bones the way he did at the Entrance Exam. 

That was alright, though. Izuku knew he couldn’t excel in everything—he’d seen Hidan-nii fail enough at even basic logic and reasoning countless times, yet his adopted brother was still one of the most dangerous people he’d ever met. The fact that they’d been on the run for five years and counting without being caught was testament enough to Hidan-nii’s skill. So he knew he could become a successful Hero even if he wasn’t perfect.

Besides, Izuku wasn’t the only one struggling. The tall purple-haired boy—Shinsou, that was his name—who sat behind him had been consistently scoring last in all their tests, while Izuku was only doing slightly better as second-to-last thanks to Hidan-nii’s relentless physical training. He could almost see the dark storm clouds brewing around Shinsou’s head. Was that what his Quirk was? He’d have to ask when he got the chance.

“Alright, class,” Aizawa-sensei said, snapping Izuku out of his thoughts, “this is the last test.” He quickly explained the ball throw, which wasn’t hard to understand at all. “However, after this test, I will be evaluating all your scores to determine who has the potential to become a Pro-Hero and who doesn’t.” Murmurs rippled through the students. Their teacher paused, gaze seeming to linger on Izuku. “And, whoever comes in last, I will be expelling.” 

“_ What?! _” Shinsou immediately exclaimed. “How the hell is that fair?!” Izuku was inclined to agree.

Aizawa-sensei shrugged. “Like I said, my class, my rules, and I don’t like to waste my time on those who don’t even stand a chance of earning their Hero License.” 

With that, he called the first student and the test began. For now, Izuku was safe in second to last, as long as Shinsou didn’t score anything too ridiculous… 

“Here I go!” Uraraka called, tapping the ball with her fingers. Within seconds, it floated off into the sky; the scoring machine rattled for a second, before an infinity sign popped up on its display. Despite his nerves, Izuku couldn’t help but giggle and flash her a thumbs-up. She grinned, returning the gesture. Aizawa-sensei shrugged, before calling Shinsou to go next.

Shinsou tapped Uraraka on the shoulder as he stepped past her for his turn. “Hey, what’s your Quirk?” 

“Ah! It’s—” Her eyes glazed over.

“Send my ball into space with your Quirk.” 

And to the class’s astonishment, she did exactly that. The machine spat out another infinity sign. Uraraka stumbled, confusion flitting across her face as whatever control Shinsou had placed on her seemed to lift.

“Hey!” Kirishima yelled indignantly. “That was totally unmanly! Aizawa-sensei, does that even count?”

Their teacher yawned. “This _ is _a Quirk Apprehension Test. Shinsou used his Quirk to throw the ball. I don’t see the issue with that.” The purple-haired boy only smirked.

Izuku’s heart dropped. He was in last place, now. If what Aizawa-sensei said was true—he couldn’t use One for All the same way he did during the Entrance Exam. But he also couldn’t afford to not use his Quirk at all, or else he’d be expelled and his dream cut short. Was this the true nature of suffering Hidan-nii was always preaching to him about? 

Hmm. Speaking of Hidan-nii, he was always going on about which parts of the body he found most unnecessary. Specifically in the context of which appendages he chopped off first during a ritual, which would cause pain but wouldn’t kill his sacrifice. Izuku knew he couldn’t exactly survive a stab to the buttocks or lop his left foot off like Hidan-nii could, but one thing he _ could _do…

Aizawa-sensei called his name. Izuku grabbed a ball and stepped up to the pitch. He took aim, channeling all the volatile electricity of One For All coursing through his body into his pointer finger. And Izuku flicked that finger like his life depended on it. 

(Hidan-nii would probably give him hell for not using his middle finger, but it was worth it to see Kacchan’s shocked expression when Izuku’s ball landed a decimeter further than his.)

— — — — — 

Ahh. Shouta pouted mentally, a bit put-out that he didn’t end up getting to expel anyone this year. Well, he supposed it was a good thing that all the students demonstrated some level of potential (and their faces were, admittedly, quite funny). Plus, he couldn’t exactly up and expel Midoriya, not after Nezu had entrusted him with his mission and all.

“Hey, Shinsou, right?” Kirishima was saying, having dropped back from the pack of students trekking back toward the school. Shouta’s ears perked up. “Sorry about yelling at you just now, even if I still think it was unmanly. What’s your Quirk, anyway?”

Shinsou glared at the red-haired boy. “...Brainwashing,” he muttered. 

“Whoa! Cool!” Midoriya chimed in. 

“Hmph. Not so cool when everyone around you thinks you’ll turn out to be a Villain some day.”

Midoriya tilted his head. “It’s so useful though! You could diffuse so many situations non-violently with your Quirk, without having to risk Hero or civilian casualties.”

Shinsou eyed him suspiciously. “But the world of Heroes is heavily-biased toward physical Quirks. It’s a miracle I even passed the Entrance Exam; how is a Quirk like mine supposed to battle robots? You’d never understand, since you have a strength Quirk.” He slouched heavily. “I have to fight, every single day, against a system designed to make people like me fail. Don’t pretend like you know anything about me.” 

Shouta sighed inwardly. Looked like Midoriya wasn’t the only problem child in Class 1-A, even if the purple-haired kid had a point (he probably needed to speak with Bakugo as well, if his earlier outburst at Midoriya’s presence was any indicator of their past).

“Ah!” Midoriya chirped. “That just means you’ve struggled well!” 

Wait, what? 

Shinsou echoed Shouta’s sentiment. “...excuse me?” He said weakly.

“You’ve struggled and suffered throughout your life,” Midoriya said. “That means you’ve lived a life of value. And you’ll continue doing so throughout your Hero journey!”

“Listen,” Shinsou snarled, “you couldn’t even begin to comprehend everything I’ve gone through—”

“Trust me, I do, Shinsou-san!” Midoriya cut in, “and I’m saying that I respect you for it. I think it’s super admirable that you’ve suffered like that, and I hope to learn a lot from you this year as your classmate!”

“What…” Uraraka began weakly, “what do you mean by that, Midoriya-san?” 

“Well, suffering is what unites us all,” Midoriya explained simply. “In the end, it’s the only true thing we all have in common, and it gives our lives meaning. What’s the point of life if you spend it avoiding anything that would cause you pain?”

All the students had fallen silent around him, and Shinsou looked completely blind-sided by the turn their conversation had taken. Something heavy settled in Shouta’s stomach. He was certain, now, that Midoriya had been present during his mother’s murder, for him to think like that now. Who—or what—had taken Midoriya? How had he lived, to instill such a harsh outlook on life in a child so young?

“I—I mean,” Uraraka stuttered valiantly, “I guess you have a point…”

Kirishima frowned. “It does make a certain logical sense,” he said, “but I don’t really understand why suffering would be your ultimate goal in life. Wouldn’t it make more sense to suffer in order to gain something else? Why endure pain if you don’t get something out of it?”

“I suppose,” Midoriya said, chin in hand. “But we might all have different goals in life. Like I said before, we can only truly have the fact that we suffered in common with one another. How else would we form social bonds? How would we connect to people who are different from ourselves?”

“Er…” Kirishima slumped in defeat, “if you really want to think that way…” Shinsou, who’d been standing silently, abruptly turned away, an unreadable expression on his face. 

Shouta pinched his nose. He’ll need to meet with Nezu as soon as the school day ended. The situation had just become much more complicated than any of them had expected. He could only imagine what Midoriya had gone through already. 

“It’s time for your English class,” he grumbled, cutting his students’ conversation short. “Go change and get cleaned up.” For now, he’d just let Hizashi deal with this chaos. Fight fire with fire, and all that.

— — — — — 

Hidan had been minding his own business in the shady alleyway when some shitface approached him and began demanding all his money while waving a gun in his face. 

“Fuck off!” He screeched, swiping his scythe through the guy’s arm. Blood exploded everywhere, the heathen screamed in terror, and Hidan cackled as he began his ritual. At least he was able to fit in at least one sacrifice today while Izuku was off being a nerd. 

He woke up to _ another _shitface—this time with a black cloud where his head should be—staring down at him. 

“What the hell!” Hidan scrambled to his feet, spinning his scythe in front of himself. 

“Ah, please excuse the intrusion,” Cloud Fucker said. “I was simply intrigued by the commotion and came to investigate.” The guy dressed the way he talked—all formal with a tie and shit, not practical at all. 

“Just as well, then,” Hidan sneered, “guess Jashin-sama’s feeling good today!” He swung his scythe at Cloud Fucker’s head, only for his weapon to pass straight through his body. “Hey! Not fuckin’ fair!”

“I’m terribly sorry,” the man said. “However, I do not mean you any harm; in fact, I have a bit of a proposition for you, if you would care to put your blade down for a moment.”

Hidan grit his teeth. It wasn’t like he had any other choice, seeing as Cloud Fucker had some Tobi-level shit going. He lowered his scythe. “Hurry the fuck up,” he spat. “I don’t have all day.”

“Thank you. I merely wanted to ask if you are perhaps interested in joining the League of Villains. It is a group dedicated to eradicating the Hero, All Might, who has created a world of artificial peace. We intend to remind the world about how things used to be,” the man explained. “A return to a more primal way of life, if you will.”

(Hidan’s Bullshit Translator was tingling. Once translated, the conversation he was hearing went a little something like this: “blah blah blah, blah blah I’m boring blah blah.”)

“Ehh, whatever,” Hidan stuck a finger in his ear. It sounded like a club for shitty heathens, sure, but maybe this was like the Akatsuki all over again. He didn’t really care about any Villain agenda or shit, but maybe he’d be able to wreak the most havoc possible on this world as one of their members. 

He wasn’t sure about pledging his loyalty to a group again, though. He’d gotten lucky that the Akatsuki had given him free reign to kill whoever he wanted; would the League of Losers have the same leniency? More importantly, would he have to paint his nails black again?

“You do not have to make a decision immediately,” Cloud Fucker said. “Please think on what I have said. We would value a member such as yourself.” He bowed. “My name is Kurogiri. Once you have made your decision, please come find me in this place again.” With that, he warped out of existence.

Hidan shuddered. At least this guy didn’t talk like Tobi, although he wasn’t sure if the polite formality was any better. 

“I think you should join,” Izuku said thoughtfully over dinner. “Whoever this group is, it might be good to keep an eye on them. They sound serious.”

“What am I, your fuckin’ spy?” Hidan groused, cramming rice into his mouth. “I just wanna find more sacrifices to Jashin-sama. Other than keeping your sorry ass safe, I have no investment in your fucking Hero business.” 

Not for the first time, he lamented not having fully converted the nerd to Jashinism, rather than just teaching him the holy scripture. It would make keeping him alive so much easier if he couldn’t be killed in the first place. Plus, Izuku had these weird qualms about killing. Sure, he was alright with Hidan doing it, understanding the necessity for sacrifices for Hidan’s powers, but he seemed to fucking squeamish to actually do it himself.

But Hidan could sense that it wasn’t what Jashin-sama wanted for Izuku, and he didn’t dare question his god’s will. It just made his mission a fuck-ton more harder. 

“Aww, Hidan-nii!” Izuku said. “Maybe they could help you find more sacrifices! With a name like the ‘League of Villains,’ I really doubt they have any kind of interest in protecting anybody, so I’m sure they'll let you do as you please. What did you say their mission was, again?”

“I dunno,” Hidan said, “I tuned it out ‘cause it sounded boring as shit.”

The nerd tilted his head. “Hmm, that doesn’t sound like a very stable business model.”

“I’ll business _ your _model,” Hidan said, smirking at the nerd’s dismayed cry.

“That doesn’t even make any sense, Hidan-nii!” Izuku protested. He poked at his food with his chopsticks. “Oh, and guess who I met today? My childhood friend, Kacchan, is in the same Hero class as me! Isn’t that a weird coincidence?”

“What kind of fucking name is ‘Kacchan’?” Hidan said. “His parents hate him, or something?”

“‘Kacchan’ is just my nickname for him, from when we were kids,” Izuku said. “His actual name is Bakugou Katsuki. We were neighbors, I remember.”

“Whatever, I don’t care,” Hidan said, leaning back in his chair. “As long as he doesn’t cause us trouble.”

“I don’t think he will. He kept getting distracted and blowing stuff up when he tried to question me about where I went. He reminds me a lot of you, actually!”

“Fucking peachy.” Hidan wiped his hands on his pants. “Alright, nerd, hurry up and finish dinner. We’re sparring tonight.”

Izuku’s face immediately morphed into an expression of horror. “Sparring?” He squeaked. “No! Hidan-nii, you’re so mean! I’m gonna be so sore tomorrow! What if we have P.E.?”

“Tough titties!” Hidan snickered. He supposed having the kid around wasn’t always so miserable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus dialogue that didn’t make the final cut:  
“You fucking broke your finger for a fucking test?!” Hidan screamed. “Are you fucking kidding me? I thought you were a nerd, not a fucking dumbass! Jashin-sama’s gonna be so fucking pissed if you keep breaking bones for this shitty Quirk! All these fucking years wiping your ass wasted! And, you broke your fucking pointer finger?! How lame is that shit? You have a perfectly-functioning middle finger and you don’t even use it! What a fucking disappointment, I didn’t fucking raise you to be like this, Izuku!”
> 
> Sorry there wasn’t too much Hidan this chapter, but I hope you enjoyed Izuku’s Jashin-ified personality! Don’t worry, he isn’t any less smart or caring here; when living with Hidan for years on end, one simply has to learn to roll with the punches.  
Thank you for your comments, kudos, and bookmarks! Please let me know what you think!


	3. killing people isn't a 'real job,' hidan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hidan wreaks havoc on the League of Villains, while Izuku wreaks havoc on All Might's Battle Trial.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings as always for Hidan’s cursing and other offensive language, and also for when Izuku very briefly thinks he is about to be assaulted (it’s just his imagination running wild and nothing happens in reality). 
> 
> Thank you all for your kind comments, kudos, and bookmarks! Please enjoy!

The bar was dimly-lit and tucked into one of the seedier parts of town. Hidan slouched through the door after Cloud Fucker. What kind of super-Villain base was this? It was tiny, cramped, and much too neatly-organized: all in all, it sucked balls. At least the Akatsuki had proper fucking fortress. It really paid to have an entire village funding your world-ending plots of extreme evil, it seemed.

There were two men in the bar already. The dark-haired one, leaning suavely against the counter in an edgy shredded coat, was covered in dark purple patches of skin sewn together with black stitches (uncomfortably similar to Kakuzu’s, ew). He looked like a fucking zombie wannabe. 

The other, slouched in a seat in front of the bar, was somehow even stranger—was that a fucking _ hand _on his face? What the fuck? There should be some kind of law about how fucking weird this Quirk shit was allowed to get. Hidan already wanted to go home.

Shitty Zombie had straightened when they entered, shooting off some kind of finger-salute. “Yo,” he said.

Cloud Fucker seemed to nod to fucker, even though that should have been anatomically impossible. Hidan only sneered, although the guy didn’t seem too bothered.

“Is this the newest recruit?” Bad Touch Bitch rasped. Damn, he even _ sounded _like a B-list horror-movie Villain. 

“Yes,” Cloud Fucker said. “This is Hidan-san, the one I told you about. I have told him about the basics of the League’s goals, but I leave the majority of the explanation to you, Shigaraki Tomura.”

These heathens must be really fucking dumb or really fucking arrogant to just throw full names about before even properly inducting Hidan into their stupid cult. 

(He hated to say it, but Hidan was actually starting to miss Pein and his bullshit; at least that bitch knew how to run a supervillain organization properly.)

Bad Touch Bitch giggled like a fucking kid. What a creeper. “Well,” he said, “our deal is pretty simple, Hidan.” His voice creaked as he swung around to face Hidan properly. “We in the League of Villains believe the world has lived under the shadow of Heroes for too long. We will remind them about fear, and bring everybody under the cloak of darkness Villains have embraced for so long.” Cracked lips peeled back into a deranged grin. “And we will accomplish all of this by killing All Might. Once the world has lost its beloved Symbol of Peace, it’s Game Over for the Heroes.”

For a split second, Hidan wished Izuku were there with him. The nerd would be taking a book’s worth of notes at Bad Touch Bitch’s spiel, and Hidan wouldn’t have to listen to a single fucking word. Maybe he could get a pamphlet to give him?

“Whatever,” Hidan said. “I don’t give a flying fuck what you shitheads want.” He sensed Bad Touch Bitch’s gaze sharpen beneath the hand on his face, while Shitty Zombie barked out a surprised laugh. Hidan couldn’t have felt less intimidated by these assholes. “All I wanna do,” he drawled, “is to kill people. Will you help me do that?”

And the creepy bitch was smiling again. “Ah, of course,” he said. “You are welcome to kill as many extras as you want. In fact, if you were to kill some specific people every now and then, that would be greatly beneficial to us.”

“Do I have to sign a fucking contract to join, or whatever?” Hidan said impatiently.

Bad Touch Bitch paused. “Are you fully committed to joining, then?” He rasped. 

“Sure,” he said, “why the hell not. It’ll give me something to fucking pass the time with, at least.”

“Wonderful,” Bad Touch Bitch said. “Kurogiri will contact you when your services are needed, then. For now, we are still recruiting more members before we make our first move.”

“Fucking peachy,” Hidan sighed. That was today’s task done, then. 

Shitty Zombie, who’d been eyeing Hidan the entire time, opened his mouth to speak. “What’s your Quirk, then?” He asked.

“Huh?” Hidan paused. “Why don’t you tell me yours first, bitch?”

“So suspicious,” Shitty Zombie said with a smirk. “But if you insist, my Quirk is ‘Cremation.’ I can make and control fire, basically.”

Hidan snickered. “No wonder you look so burnt.” Shitty Zombie only smiled at his jab. Hidan twirled his scythe idly. “But to answer your dumbass question, I don’t have any of that Quirk shit. I just stab people.”

Shitty Zombie’s eyes widened. “For real? Someone who’s Quirkless wants to join the League of Villains?”

“Excuse me,” Cloud Fucker interrupted, cleaning a glass behind the counter, “but did I not witness you utilizing some sort of Quirk when we first met? It seemed to me that you were able to inflict injuries on yourself and have them appear on your opponents as well.” Bad Touch Bitch perked up in interest.

“Nah,” Hidan said, “that ain’t a fucking Quirk. All my powers come from Jashin-sama and his blessings.”

“Jashin…?” Shitty Zombie asked, bemused. 

“The god of suffering,” Hidan confirmed. “And don’t say his name so fucking disrespectfully like that, heathen!”

Cloud Fucker blinked, “I have never heard of a name or religion of the sort.”

“You assholes wouldn’t understand,” he snorted. Nobody did. Well, nobody but Izuku, now, even if he _ was _a fucking nerd. “But one day you will. Jashin-sama doesn’t discriminate; he’ll bring suffering to everyone, in the end.” 

He slung his scythe over his shoulder in the silence that fell over the bar. “Anyway, I got places to be, people to kill, blah blah blah. See you bitches later!” 

The bar door’s bell jingled cheerily as he kicked the door open and left. 

Kurogiri watched as the strange man exited his bar. An ominous air of apprehension settled through his body. 

To his left, Dabi snorted. “Man, what a character,” he said. “You sure he’s gonna be of much use?”

“We will take anybody who supports our cause,” Kurogiri said diplomatically. Besides, they still needed a heavy-hitter in their budding crew. He himself had no offensive capabilities to speak of, while Shigaraki’s Quirk was only usable for close-combat. And Dabi may be powerful both long- and short-range, but his body seemed rather ill-suited for his fire Quirk. 

When Kurogiri had first stumbled upon him, he had been utilizing a strange power to brutally mutilate his opponent. After witnessing the gray-haired man kill himself and then revive from the dead, Kurogiri had thought nothing about Hidan would faze him after the initial shock had worn off. 

He was wrong, it seemed.

Kurogiri had approached the man because he recognized the weapon he wielded—a three-pronged scythe, whose blades were tinted an ominous shade of red. All For One had been telling him about the Chinoike Killer Case just the other day during their monthly meeting, kept largely quiet by the police. All For One’s mole had reported that the killer seemed to be armed with a peculiar weapon with three blades; imagine his shock when he managed to stumble upon a brutal murderer who possessed an item fitting such a description. 

“I would be interested in meeting this killer,” All For One had mused, “and I would rather enjoy studying his Quirk, I suspect.” 

Thus, Kurogiri had taken the opportunity to invite Hidan into the League of Villains. When Shigaraki had heard of his master’s interest in the man, he’d quickly agreed as well. A fighter of Hidan’s caliber would surely benefit their mission. And yet the murderer insisted he possessed no Quirk, and was thoroughly devoted to a religion that he had never even heard of. 

Kurogiri now wondered if he’d made the right choice to recruit Hidan. Alas, only time would tell. 

— — — — — 

“How have you been, my boy?” All Might asked. He had led Izuku to the teacher’s lounge before home room began. While Izuku was stoked to talk more with his idol, he also wasn’t sure if he was about to encounter one of those stranger-danger moments Hidan-nii had drilled into his head when he was younger. He was probably just being paranoid, but he’d spent the entire walk considering how best to knee the Symbol of Peace in the crotch just in case. 

Now he could see he shouldn’t have been worried. Izuku beamed. “Never been better, sir!” He chirped. “I’ve been really enjoying all the classes here at U.A.! They’re challenging, but I can sense they’re making me a much better Hero already.”

“Good, good, I’m very glad to hear it.” All Might knit his hands together, balancing his skeletal chin on his arms. “And how is your progress with One For All?”

“I’m still breaking my bones whenever I use it,” Izuku frowned, “but I think I’m getting the hang of it. I used it during Aizawa-sensei’s Quirk Apprehension test, actually, and I think I did pretty well. I managed to contain the effects to just my finger, so I was still fully-functional after using One For All.”

All Might winced. “Ah, I suppose that is an improvement. However, I suspect you will still risk breaking your bones every time you use the Quirk for the next couple of months. Are you still training physically? That should help you contain its effects more efficiently.”

“Yup!” Izuku said. “Every single day!” He took a sip of his water. “The… person I train with is very good at pushing me to grow stronger each time we spar.”

“Truly?” All Might raised an eyebrow. “And who might that be?”

Ah. He knew he had to tread carefully around his teachers when the subject of Hidan-nii was involved. Izuku didn’t know for certain, but he had a feeling that regular, brutal killing sprees effectively made one an enemy of the state; plus, his five-year disappearing act couldn’t have gone unnoticed, not with the way Kacchan had acted their first day of school.

“It’s just a friend!” He chirped to All Might. “We only met in the last couple of weeks, anyway.” Izuku quickly changed the subject before his mentor could press the issue. “Aren’t you a teacher here, sir? Will you be leading one of the classes soon?”

All Might coughed. “Ah, yes, I will be present today, in fact. Actually, that was supposed to be a surprise…”

“Oh!” Izuku said. “Your secret is safe with me, then. I look forward to it!”

“As do I,” All Might said. “Incidentally, you and young Bakugo have a bit of a volatile history, correct?” Izuku nodded. “Ah, perhaps you two would not make a good pair for our exercise…”

“What exercise?” Izuku asked innocently.

“Um,” All Might looked briefly flustered, “that is… also supposed to be a surprise.” He wrung his hands sheepishly. “You should go back to class, young Midoriya. I believe the bell will ring in the next couple of minutes. We will meet again later.”

Later, as it turned out, took place on a fake city-scape similar to the one from the Entrance Exam. All Might was there when they arrived, and Izuku’s classmates immediately began gushing excitedly and shouting questions at the Pro-Hero.

Izuku tugged on his new Hero costume, examining its design more thoroughly while he had the chance (Hidan-nii had helped him design it, after his brother-figure had seen his original sketch and mercilessly mocked Izuku for a solid week). 

The cloth of the suit was soft yet durable, allowing for a full range of motion; his gloves and boots were both reinforced with steel, which meant Izuku’s hits would pack some serious punch even if he didn’t use One For All. His helmet had lightweight padding around his skull, which the Support Department claimed to be strong enough to protect from most concussions. Transparent lenses gave Izuku full vision range, while two tiny tufts rose from his head (which he’d managed to rescue from his original design, albeit downsized greatly; Hidan-nii insisted the long rabbit ears would be a prime target for someone to grab). A cowl around his chin protected his neck. The entire costume was a dark, almost black, green—he’d compromised with Hidan-nii on the final color, in the end.

Most importantly, however, was Izuku’s utility belt: it was capable of holding an enormous amount of weapons and supplies, from knives—sadly unsharpened until he became a full-fledged Pro-Hero—to an entire first-aid kit (Hidan-nii had snickered and called him a wimp). Additionally, the suit had countless pockets and caches sewn wherever they fit, allowing him to hide another set of weapons and tools on his body. Hidan-nii suggested those as well, muttering all the while about “bitch-ass shinobi sneaking around with fucking tags and knives and other pussy shit” from his old world.

Izuku certainly felt sneaky enough in his costume. 

“So suave and cool!” Uraraka had gushed behind her bubblegum-pink visor. 

“Very practical, indeed,” Iida had also said. His costume was rather practical, too. 

All Might snapped Izuku out of his thoughts with his booming voice. “Alright, students!” He called. “I will now explain your task for today’s lesson. We will be simulating a battle between Heroes and Villains on this city-course; you will be sorted into teams of two and assigned to either the Hero side or the Villain side.” 

He went on to describe the specifics of the scenario, with the nuclear bomb, capture mechanics, and other rules. The Pro-Hero then activated the lottery system with a flourish. “Our first team!” He boomed, “Heroes: Yaoyorozu Momo and Jirou Kyoka! Villains: Kaminari Denki and Shinsou Hitoshi!”

Izuku watched the first match eagerly, mind spinning through all the various strategies he could potentially use for his round while observing his classmates’ Quirks. Yaoyorozu and Jirou made an especially good team, he noted, especially with Yaoyorozu’s Creation Quirk and Jirou’s Earphone Jack abilities. They were able to overwhelm Shinsou and Kaminari through a creative use of a sound system Yaoyorozu created; the two boys were also hindered by their bickering and Shinsou’s general uncooperativeness as well. 

“Wow!” Uraraka gasped beside him. “This is so exciting! I wonder who we’ll get paired with?” 

“I hope to be cast as a Hero,” Iida said, fixing his glasses. “I am not sure how I would fare as a Villain…”

A buzzer sounded.

“Congratulations to the Heroes!” All Might said, signalling the end of the first trial. “I will now announce the next pairing. Heroes: Iida Tenya and Asui Tsuyu! Villains: Uraraka Ochako and Midoriya Izuku!”

Uraraka jumped in excitement. “Alright, Midoriya-san! Let’s do this!” Izuku pumped his fist with a grin. 

Asui hopped over, waving to Iida. “Looking forward to working with you, ribbit,” she said. “Please call me Tsuyu.”

“Ah, I am excited to be your partner as well…” The two huddled together. 

Izuku grabbed Uraraka’s wrist, leading her toward the building they would be fighting in. “Let’s make a plan,” he said to her. “I have some ideas about how to play our part as the Villains…” 

Toshinori watched as young Iida and Asui sprinted into the building, splitting off in order to search for the ‘Villains’ more effectively. They made a good team, with Iida’s logical planning ability and Asui’s easy-going adaptability; Midoriya and Uraraka would have their hands full fending their classmates off. 

That wasn’t to say they were not a formidable team in their own right; Toshinori had overheard part of the strategy young Midoriya had pieced together in their allotted five-minute head-start, and he had to wonder at where the green-haired boy had learned to be quite so devious. Perhaps it had to do with his life after his mysterious disappearance; Toshinori shuddered, pondering the potential scenarios which would impart such a streak of cunning in the typically-cheerful boy. 

Thankfully, his chosen successor demonstrated nothing but a genuine pureness of heart in real life. Toshinori had not been aware of the boy’s past, or lack thereof, when he decided to pass One For All to Midoriya, but the briefing Nezu and Aizawa had provided him before the school year began made him all the more grateful he was able to provide any manner of aid to the boy to help him rise above his misfortune and realize his true potential. 

On-screen, Toshinori watched as young Midoriya scrambled through the building, always one step ahead of the Heroes and pulling a seemingly-endless stream of odds and ends to lay traps everywhere he went. Uraraka guarded the bomb in their chosen room on the top floor. He nodded approvingly—her Quirk would provide them with much more maneuverability in the event the Heroes found the missile. 

“Found you, ribbit!” Ah. Asui had caught Midoriya’s trail, which she quickly pursued into the depths of the third floor. Midoriya initially appeared unaware of her pursuit, ambling from room to room at the same pace he’d began with—only years of personal experience allowed Toshinori to recognize that the green-haired boy was actually deftly leading Asui on a merry chase, effectively separating her from her teammate and disorienting her with the unfamiliar layout of the building. 

Midoriya spun to a stop at the end of one of the rooms. Asui stumbled in after him, tongue immediately shooting out to catch him. He dodged nearly effortlessly. Toshinori leaned closer to the monitor, engrossed in the battle that unfolded between the two. 

“Nothing personal, Asui-san!” Midoriya’s voice crackled out of the speaker as he slung a handful of dulled throwing stars in her direction, forcing her to raise her arms to cover her face. 

“None taken, ribbit,” she said, circling to his left in search of an opening. “And please, call me Tsuyu.” Her tongue arched toward his arm, which he avoided with a neat side-step as he swung his leg in a smooth low kick. Asui was forced to dodge, sending her further into the room. 

Midoriya dropped a large metal canister he pulled from his massive utility belt onto the ground, which hissed out a thick red mist. “Ah, sure thing, Tsuyu-san!” Sprinting as silently as he could to the open hallway, he appeared to carefully strained his ears, tracking his classmate’s movement as she stumbled through the smoke. 

“Can I call you Izu-kun, then?” Asui said, tongue slapping blindly out, landing to Midoriya’s left. Blinded by the mist, she stumbled through the wire trap Toshinori had seen him lay during his head-start, which looped around her ankle before hoisting her into the air upside-down. Midoriya moved quickly, slinging a rope around her arms to immobilize her, ducking under her flailing tongue. 

“Of course you can!” He chirped happily. “That’s the first nickname I’ve ever gotten from a friend, how cute!”

“Ah…” Asui said. “I’m honored, Izu-kun.” She slumped in defeat. “But it seems you’ve captured me…”

Midoriya clapped his hands while beaming. “It was a good fight, Tsuyu-san! But now, please excuse me, I need to get going. See you after the test!” 

“See you!” Asui called. Midoriya waved over his shoulder as he jogged out of the corridor. 

An excellent fight, indeed. Toshinori was already rapidly re-thinking his training suggestions for young Midoriya after witnessing the boy’s demonstration of his martial arts ability. The mysterious training partner he mentioned before must be a professional of the highest degree. Or a lunatic. 

(Somewhere in the seedy alleyways of Musutafu, while rifling through a dead woman’s rather hefty wallet, Hidan sneezed.)

Meanwhile, it appeared that young Iida was drawing close to Uraraka and the missile. An impressive trail of activated traps and debris lay in his wake; while he had presumably managed to dodge the worst of the damage with his speed Quirk, the younger brother of Ingenium was now covered in fake feathers of various neon pigments, which stuck to patches of a pink fluid dripping down Iida’s arms and legs. With every turn of his head, a fine cloud of glitter scattered around his shoulders and mixed with the pink goo. The boy looked rather miserable, all told.

Midoriya’s traps were quite formidable, indeed. 

“Hand over the missile!” Iida called to Uraraka, having discovered the Villains’ room. “Nobody has to get hurt here.”

“Never!” She yelled, dropping into a defensive stance in front of the nuclear bomb. “You’ll have to get through me if you want it!” Toshinori spared a moment to note the students’ theatrics. Understanding each side’s mindset was an important point of this lesson, after all.

Iida paused, eyeing the wide expanse of empty room between himself and Uraraka suspiciously. Good thinking; he should be quite wary of Midoriya’s trapping ability by now. Seeing his hesitation, Uraraka reached out to touch the missile, evidently preparing to move their cargo before Iida could reach it. 

The engines in his legs flared, and the dark-haired boy sprung forward, throwing caution to the wind in a daring head-on attack. Traps snapped and sprung behind him, but he appeared to outrun the majority of them. However, just as Iida reached the middle of the room, something fell from above—a ceiling tile?—and smashed into the ground in front of him, forcing him to backpedal. It was followed by another smoke canister dropping from the ceiling, which spewed an alarmingly-bright green gas that quickly enveloped Iida. 

A dark blur dropped from where the ceiling tile had been kicked out, and Midoriya slung a rope into the green cloud lasso-style, coiling the rope several times before a tied-up Iida emerged from the smoke, coughing and sputtering. 

“Surprise!” Midoriya called, grinning. Uraraka cheered in the background. 

The buzzer sounded. Time was up. “And the victory goes to the Villains!” Toshinori said into his microphone. “Congratulations to Midoriya and Uraraka for stellar strategy and execution. Iida, Asui, you two did well for your first mission, but in the future you will need to put more consideration into predicting your opponent’s skillset, while also combining your strengths to more effect.”

As the four students walked out of the building, much of Class 1-A swarmed over to Midoriya, clamoring about his various traps. The boy in question only laughed modestly, while sheepishly helping Iida peel feathers and paint off of his Hero costume. Young Bakugou was scowling quite ferociously in the back.

As Toshinori watched, he came to a startling realization: Midoriya had not used One For All even once. 

…there would be time to ponder that later. For now, he reached over and activated the lottery machine for the next trial. 

“Heroes: Hagakure Toru and Ojirou Masahirao! Villains: Bakugo Katsuki and Kirishima Ejirou!” 

— — — — — 

“Midoriya!” A voice called after him as he, Iida, and Uraraka were walking out of the schoolyard. 

Izuku turned. “Ah, Shinsou-san!” He greeted. 

The purple-haired boy caught up to the three of them. “I—Midoriya. Can I ask you something?” He seemed oddly uncomfortable, scratching at the back of his neck.

“Ah, sure!” Izuku said. “You to go ahead, I’ll catch up,” he waved at Iida and Uraraka, before focusing on Shinsou. “What did you need?”

He took a deep breath. “...I’ve been thinking about what you said, after Aizawa-sensei’s first test,” Shinsou began slowly, “and I think you might be right. This entire time, I’ve only thought of my own problems, without even considering that other people may have gone through similar things. And instead of wallowing in self-pity, I should be taking advantage of all my opportunities to become better, stronger, and change the system myself.” 

He paused. “When I was watching your match today, it looked like you’ve been training hard and pushing yourself to improve, while I’ve just been running my mouth this whole time. So—I want to live more like you do, and actually _ do _ something for myself instead of simply being angry all the time.” 

A deep breath. “What I wanted to ask you—I—Midoriya, would you be willing to train with me? It—it doesn’t have to be that often, just whenever you have time… I want to get stronger, the way you’re strong.” 

Shinsou abruptly closed his mouth, looking uncomfortably off to the side. 

Izuku flushed. “Er—thank you very much, Shinsou-san, and I would definitely love to train with you sometime!” He scratched his head. “Only, I’m pretty sure I didn’t say any of the things you just said…”

Shinsou simply barked out a laugh, before moving on to hash out a date when both of them could meet and spar together in one of U.A.’s dojo spaces. Izuku shrugged mentally. If Shinsou wasn’t bothered, then he wouldn’t be bothered by it, either. 

The purple-haired boy turned to walk out of the courtyard. “See you then, Midoriya.”

“Ah, goodbye, Shinsou-san!” Izuku called after him, waving. It seemed he and Shinsou could get along, after all. 

Izuku smiled to himself, before running to catch up to his friends waiting for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hidan: Hey Izuku you’re so fucking weak, here are one billion deadly shinobi traps you can use, go fucking nuts  
Izuku: makes non-lethal traps  
Hidan: surprised pikachu face
> 
> Sorry we didn’t get any Hidan and Izuku together this chapter, but that will definitely change as we move into the USJ arc! Hope you enjoyed my version of the Battle Trial Arc :D  
As always, please let me know what you think!


	4. interlude: midoriya izuku

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some things from Izuku’s perspective.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for hidan-level gore, violence, Jashinism, and general crime.

At first, Izuku had thought the gray-haired man was a monster. 

He descended on the Villains who’d hurt his Ka-san from out of nowhere, slamming through their bodies while cackling maniacally. He cursed almost non-stop while tearing the men limb-from-limb, seemingly fueled by their screams of agony and terror. That strange, three-pronged scythe whirled constantly, catching the afternoon sun on its blade, gleaming.

Blood flew everywhere. A drop landed on Izuku’s cheek, warm against his skin. Warm, unlike the way that his Ka-san was rapidly growing colder under his hands. 

As he watched, the monster carved an intricate symbol into the ground, mumbling wildly while taking over the half-dead Villains with a strange Quirk, turning his skin black and white while the men around him writhed in agony. His eyes filled with bliss.

Izuku realized he was praying. The man stabbed his scythe into his chest, and with a sickening crunch, both he and the Villains went deathly quiet. 

When he shuddered back to life, prayers still falling from his lips, Izuku knew the man was an angel. 

He knew, when the angel dipped his blade into his Ka-san’s blood and repainted his holy symbol, when he solemnly chanted his prayers over her body, when the pain and suffering eased from her face on the ground—he knew the angel had granted his Ka-san his mercy.

“Thank you,” he whispered, when the man woke back up. 

And that was how Izuku was whisked away into the arms of a chaotic, blood-splattered angel with a scythe. 

  
  


Izuku didn’t quite remember the first few months of his life with Hidan-nii, but he knew the man had spirited the two of them around almost constantly before they found their current apartment, avoiding authorities and Villains alike. All he could recall was a blur of scenery, faceless blobs cut down around him as Hidan-nii did his best to keep them safe and fed. 

He remembered feeling tired and hungry at times. He remembered how some nights his angel-turned-brother would set food and water before him, watching him eat it all while never taking a bite for himself. He remembered sinewy muscle against his skin, protecting him from the shadows that chased them and warming him when he was cold. 

Izuku wasn’t dumb. He knew that what his brother had done, still did, was highly illegal, that he lacked the same morals Izuku had been raised with. He knew he wasn’t technically supposed to be with Hidan after his Ka-san’s death. People like Kaa-chan and Bakugou Oba-san were probably wondering where he was. But he couldn’t quite bring himself to care, not when Hidan-nii took care of him and protected him like he was something precious.

Over the years, Izuku learned that the world wasn’t so black-and-white as he thought it was. He learned that stealing wasn’t always such a bad thing, not when you had no money and desperately needed food. He learned that Villains were different from the ones he’d learned about as a child, back when Ka-san was alive. They weren’t always despicable scum who committed crime for no reason, deserving of righteous punishment from glowing Heroes. 

In fact, Hidan-nii did crime—mostly murder—for lots of reasons. He killed to keep Izuku safe, to keep them fed and free. He killed for his Jashin-sama, the god of suffering and agony and release and mercy, the same god that granted Izuku’s Ka-san peace and now took care of her where he couldn’t see. Hidan-nii taught him lots of things about Jashin-sama, even if he couldn’t teach Izuku his immortality. Izuku had absorbed it all like a sponge.

He’d been through a lot. He’d suffered. But Izuku could honestly say that he was happy with Hidan.

A year or so into living with his surrogate brother, with a new apartment in one of the seedier parts of town, Izuku’s attention was caught by one of the televisions in the little convenience store he frequented. It was one of the shows he’d used to watch, still chugging along. He couldn’t help but stop and watch for a small while.

The main character, clearly based on All Might, was rescuing some street orphans in this episode. He single-handedly picked up three of them while blasting the comically-mustachioed Villain into space. The children thanked him breathlessly. 

“How can we be Heroes like you, Might-Man?” One asked, stars in their eyes. 

The actor posed, flexing. “All you must do,” he boomed, “is work hard and chase after your dreams!”

“But… I’ve done bad things,” the child said. “I stole a piece of bread for my sister once because we were starving. Can I still be a Hero?”

“Dear child,” Might-Man said, crouching down and placing his hand majestically on the child’s shoulder, “you only did what you had to in order to protect someone precious to you. While stealing may be a crime that you should avoid at all costs, you did it with noble intentions. There is nothing more heroic than seeking to help someone in need.”

Izuku took in a breath, startled. He barely noticed the rest of the episode, the ending theme flashing across the screen as he stared at his reflection in the glass. 

He suddenly remembered his closet full of All Might merchandise, collecting dust in his Ka-san’s apartment. His dream of being a Hero, despite his Quirklessness, which slumbered as he focused on survival with Hidan-nii, reawakened slowly in his chest. 

He knew his brother did bad things, enjoyed doing bad things, which as a Hero he could not ignore if someone else had done those same things. Yet he also remembered each and every time Hidan-nii had shoved food in his hands, ordering him to eat even as the gray-haired man turned away with an unreadable expression, going hungry for the evening. Hidan-nii was always protecting him, always looking out for his well-being.

Izuku took a deep breath, turning away from the television. He had to become a Hero. He had to grow strong enough to protect himself, so his brother wouldn’t have to. He had to ensure that the man didn’t need to kill out of defense again, only had to kill those that he chose, that Jashin-sama called him to sacrifice. He had to make sure they would never go without food again, never live on the run like that again. 

Izuku had to make Hidan proud. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hidan: i have never done anything wrong in my life, ever  
izuku: i know this and i love you
> 
> A quick shorter interlude while i work on the next actual chapter! Sorry for the long period of inactivity, which I attribute to causes such as life school and all the things happening in the world right now. Don’t worry, i'm still writing, but updates are going to be rather sporadic for now as i wrangle everything that's going on. Thanks for your continued support and I am working thru all your wonderful comments!
> 
> As a side note, I hope you all are safe and healthy during these trying times, no matter where you are in the world! And if by any chance you are someone who works in healthcare, food, or any kind of essential goods and services, thank you very much for all that you do!


	5. wait a minute, this isn’t flavortown, where the heck am i?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hidan gets excited about roller coasters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for violence, gore, Hidan’s language as usual. Also, all opinions expressed are those of Hidan’s and do not reflect those of the author, who is sure Universal Studios Japan is actually a lovely place.

Katsuki glared out the bus window listlessly, slumped in his seat with his arms crossed. Kaminari and Kirishima chattered behind him, but he barely listened, only grunting whenever his noisy-ass classmates looked at him.

A lesser man in his position would be deeply troubled, after having the conversation he’d just had with his sensei. As it was, he was just… thinking. Bakugou Katsuki was not  _ troubled _ . 

He just… 

It was a shock to see his childhood friend, whose mother was murdered, who disappeared for years without a single trace, suddenly reappear at U.A. When he’d first set foot into the 1-A classroom, Katsuki could have sworn he’d only seen a ghost. But when shitty Deku— _ and how long had it been since he’d spoken that name? _ —opened his shitty mouth and called him ‘Kacchan,’ Katsuki knew it was him. It was Midoriya Izuku, in the flesh, still just as smiley and nerdy as he’d ever been at age four. 

It pissed him off to no end. 

Except, once Katsuki took a closer look, things weren’t… exactly the same anymore. This Deku exuded a quiet confidence, moving his body in a way only years of intense physical training could produce; scars dotted his knuckles and layers upon layers of calluses covered his hands. He ate like a man possessed at lunch, scarfing food down like he was afraid it would disappear, and every time he would somehow sneak a second helping from Lunch Rush—not to eat, but to hide away in his backpack. 

Even Katsuki’s explosive temper and swearing didn’t faze him anymore, even though they’d always scared the green-haired boy as a toddler. If anything, they seemed to… endear him to Deku. His smile would always widen just a tiny bit, the disgusting glow in his eyes brighten another level. 

Aizawa-sensei’s shitty Quirk test only made things worse. It wasn’t even Deku’s weird strength Quirk; it was the cunning and calculation he’d seen in his childhood friend’s eyes. The way he’d beaten Katsuki’s score at the ball throw. He wondered who had taught him to be pleased after breaking a bone like that, after mercurially choosing a body part to sacrifice for the sake of strength.

He’d finally worked up the courage to talk to Aizawa-sensei that day. He stood stiffly at the front of the man’s desk after his classmates had filed out, jaw working as he tried to find the words to vocalize his thoughts. 

“...Is something the matter, Bakugou?” Aizawa drawled. 

Katsuki clenched his hands. “...Yes,” he bit out. “It’s about Deku—Midoriya.” 

Even though he hadn’t said anything but the green-haired teen’s name, his teacher had suddenly seemed as if he’d aged ten years. “Ah, yes,” Aizawa said. “Our resident problem-child.”

“He was my childhood neighbor,” Katsuki said, words tumbling out of him suddenly. “He disappeared for five years. His mother was killed, I went to the funeral. Nobody knew what happened to him.” He took a deep breath. “And now he’s here.”

Aizawa nodded, his eyes narrowing. “Yes, that is what happened.”

“I don’t understand,” Katsuki snarled, slamming his hands on Aizawa’s desk, “why he’s here. You’re a Pro-Hero, aren’t you? Aren’t you supposed to care what happens to kids who disappear for fucking  _ years _ ?!”

“Bakugou,” Aizawa said warningly. He seemed to glance around before leaning forward. “Bakugou, I understand that you’re concerned. However, the situation surrounding Midoriya is currently extremely sensitive. Had I known you were involved with him from a young age, I would have told you sooner, but I suppose now is as good a time as any…” 

And that led Katsuki to his current situation. Fuck Deku and his fucking smiles, all buddy-buddy with Gravity Girl and Frog up at the front of the bus. Of course he’d get himself involved as the target of a top-secret mission. 

Whatever. Katsuki didn’t care. In the end, Deku was just another stepping-stone for him to leap over in his path to being Number One. Content to resolve his thoughts there, Katsuki lazily folded his arms behind his head. He couldn’t wait to get today’s shitty exercise over with. 

Of course, then everything went to shit. 

“Fuck off!” Katsuki screeched as he fired explosions at the Villains around him. “I’ll kill you all!”

His classmates were screaming and running around like headless chickens, but he didn’t pay them any mind. Aside from Aizawa and Thirteen, he and the Half And Half bastard were the only students to react effectively to the Villains. Useless, the lot of them, he thought, grinning maniacally as another explosion rippled through the air. 

Except Deku was suddenly at his arm, dragging him away from the crowd of Villains without so much as a flinch at Katsuki’s explosions.

“What the shit, Deku!” He screamed, “I knew you were useless, but don’t make that my problem!” 

“Kacchan,” Deku hissed, body tense and alert, “we need to move away from Aizawa-sensei. He needs to be able to fight the Villains.” 

“The fuck?! I can fight these assholes perfectly fine!”

“Yes, but Aizawa-sensei and Thirteen-sensei are  _ Pro _ -Heroes,” Deku said, hand still in a punishingly-strong grip around Katsuki’s arm. Damn, how could he not break out of the nerd’s hold? “We’re their students. Even if we fought, we’d be a liability to them.”

“ _ You  _ might be,” Katsuki said, “but not me, damnit!”

“Kacchan,  _ shut the fuck up. _ ” 

He’d never heard Deku speak in that tone of voice before. Eyes wide, Katsuki stared at his childhood friend, a curl of unease finally beginning to settle in his stomach. There was something in Deku’s eyes, dark behind the spring green, something that set off all of Katsuki’s senses and set his internal alarms blaring. 

Izuku was dangerous. 

The green-haired teen took a deep breath, seemingly unaware of Katsuki’s sudden shock. He continued in an even voice. “If we hide, they can take out the Villains without having to constantly keep an eye on us. Don’t be the reason that the Heroes can’t fight properly.”

Katsuki… could actually see the logic in that, now that he took a moment to think. Looking around them, he could see that none of his classmates were left in the open, not even Half And Half. Had Deku gotten to all of them in such a short amount of time?

“Fuck you,” he muttered, but stopped struggling, allowing Deku to tow him behind a bush, where he spotted Kirishima and Kaminari already crouching. 

Damn it, was he really going to just sit out of a fight and watch like a fucking civilian?

“You guys stay here,” Deku whispered, finally letting go of Katsuki. He subtly shifted his arm, definitely not trying to restimulate blood flow. “I… need to go find somebody.”

“The fuck? Who the hell do you need to talk to so urgently in a time like this?!” Katsuki growled slowly. 

A sudden smile flashed across Deku’s shitty face. “Someone a lot like you, actually,” he said, “because I think I might have a plan.” He ran off. 

Katsuki could only growl and crouch next to his remaining classmates. 

He didn’t like this. Not one bit. 

  
  


— — — — — 

  
  


This was the worst amusement park ever. 

Hidan snarled, cutting the legs out from under one of the many cannon-fodder Villains he’d arrived with. Luckily, nobody important was around to see him turn on his own supposed comrades, thanks to Bad Touch Bitch’s need to dramatically monologue and Cloud Fucker’s need to dramatically babysit him.

“Holy fuck!” screamed one of the heathens, whose dark face paled dramatically when he saw the blood of his former ally. Hidan narrowed his eyes, recognizing the man’s voice from earlier in the day— 

_ Bad Tough Bitch rasped away at the front of the dingy little bar. A crowd of faceless Villains hanging onto his every word; Hidan lurked in the back with the rest of Shigaraki inner circle. He yawned, fighting the urge to crack open his own skull to escape from the mind-numbing boredom he felt every time Shigaraki opened his nasty cracked lips.  _

_ “Eh?” He grunted, tuning in momentarily to the speech to catch the name of their target. “The hell’s a USJ?”  _

_ “Universal Studios Japan, probably,” a dark-skinned man near the back of the crowd muttered, turning. When no sign of comprehension came from Hidan, he elaborated, “you know, the amusement park? Maybe that’s where Boss-man plans to find that school group, since All Might’s a teacher now. Makes sense, I guess.” _

Hidan had rolled his eyes. He was all too familiar with amusement parks—fuck Yuugakure and their fucking tourist trap bullshit. At least he might get the chance to try out those ‘roller coaster’ things; according to his household’s resident nerd-face, they were pretty death-defying in this world. The trip might even be worth it.

Except, when Cloud Fucker had activated his Tobi-portals, they landed somewhere that looked like an architect’s wet dream, with every single imaginable kind of city-scape and terrain crammed under a giant-ass dome. The Heroes that immediately leapt at them looked nothing like the nerd-face’s assorted trinkets of his idol. And most importantly, there were no roller coasters.

_ Scratch that _ , Hidan thought, completely calm and collected and not in the least bit hysterical, as he scanned the crowd of children staring at the League and locked eyes with wide green eyes. Wide green eyes that belonged to a green-haired child, who appeared to be actively herding the rest of the children around him away from the clash happening in front of them.

_ Izuku was here _ . 

Fuck, Universal Studios Japan  _ sucked _ . 

Hidan buried his scythe into the dark-skinned Villain’s throat with extreme prejudice. Fuck that fucker for getting his hopes up. He twisted his wrist, blood splattering in the air as he swung around to meet another Villain behind him. Fuck Yuugakure for making him turn missing-nin in the first place, fuck Izuku for being in the wrong place at the wrong time and being so kill-able, fuck, fuck, fuck. 

Unfortunately, this situation called for stealth, subtlety and advanced planning, traits Hidan would be the first to admit he lacked. He couldn’t afford for any of the League’s inner circle—the bitches he’d met during his first visit to the shitty bar—to see that he was killing their own people, or else his cover was super fucking screwed. Of course, Izuku’s safety was his top priority, and he’d reveal himself if he had to if that’s what it took to keep the shitty nerd safe, but he would prefer to continue being a member of the League. Mostly because they were his sole source of income at the moment. Also, they let him kill whoever he wanted, in exchange for said paycheck. A pretty sweet gig, all in all. 

He sent a quick prayer to Jashin-sama. Hidan needed all the divine intervention he could get today.

At least Izuku was fast on the uptake, unlike his shitty classmates. His teachers seemed to move faster as soon as their students finally scattered to various hiding spots, the weird marshmallow one vacuuming in Villains with a finger (another Jashin-awful Quirk that existed in this world, holy shit) and the shinobi-looking one speeding through the rest with some respectable taijutsu. 

Hidan didn’t stop to gawk like a civilian, though. Amid the chaos, he melted into the background, tracking Izuku’s movement behind bushes and buildings as he moved toward his charge. Thank Jashin there was an abnormal amount of cover at this park. 

Halfway around the perimeter of the clearing, a dark green blur slammed into his side. If Hidan hadn’t had the barest amount of chakra-sensing abilities to be able to tell who it was, he would have cleaved them clean in half with his scythe. As it was, he only grunted slightly—damn, the nerd was getting heavy.

“Hidan-nii!” Izuku whisper-yelled, clinging to Hidan’s torso in something that was definitely not a hug, but which gave him a chance to pat the brat down for any injuries while Izuku continued babbling quitely. 

“Are you okay? What are you doing here? Why is the League of Villains here? Didn’t you say they weren’t planning on attacking us? What’s going on?!”

“Slow down, nerd!” Hidan hissed, setting Izuku down once he finished his inspection, dragging the brat to crouch behind a ledge. “I don’t fucking know why we’re here, Jashin-damnit.”

Izuku’s eyes were wide. “That hand-covered man—Shigaraki, right?—said that he wanted to defeat All Might. And he kept using random English words that I’ve only ever heard in relation to video games. Did he mention a plan at all before you came here?”

“I have no fucking clue why we’re attacking you, all I know is something about All Might and amusement parks!” 

“Amusement parks? What does that have to do with anything?”

“I don’t fucking know! It’s what I’ve been trying to tell you this whole time!” Hidan hissed. “Bitch mentioned Universal Japanese Studio or whatever, so it just made sense he was targeting kids and I didn’t fucking question it, okay? I didn’t know it would be your fucking class!”

“What do you mean—” Izuku snapped his jaw shut, cutting himself off. “...Wait. Do you mean Universal Studios Japan?”

“Sure, what-fucking-ever, does it matter?!”

“Hidan-nii,” Izuku pressed, “did Shigaraki ever  _ say  _ the words ‘Universal Studios Japan,’ or did he say the initials ‘USJ’?”

Hidan narrowed his eyes. “I didn’t know what it stood for, so I asked one of the expendable heathens and he told me it was the fucking park.”

Izuku gaped. And then he snorted.

“What?!” Hidan said, as the nerd’s shoulders began shaking as he tried to suppress the sounds of laughs.

“H-Hidan-nii…” Izuku gasped, clutching his stomach, “this place is called the Unforeseen Simulation Joint, a building used by U.A. for educational purposes. It has the same initials as Universal Studios Japan, a world-famous amusement park located in Osaka.”

Comprehension slowly dawned on him. “So… so you mean, there were never any fucking roller coasters? No amusement park, just this weird-ass dome and your fucking class as bait for All Might?”

Izuku was laughing too hard to respond at that point, but it was all the confirmation Hidan needed. 

“Fuck Shiga-fuckface,” he growled. “Shit, I’m gonna kill all those heathens for this. I’ll cut them open from head to toe. They’re not even fit to be sacrificed to Jashin-sama. What the fuck, stop laughing at me, Izuku!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Izuku said, wiping tears from his eyes. “It’s okay, Hidan-nii, I’ll take you to Universal Studios Japan after this. Which reminds me, we need a plan to get my class out of this safely without blowing your cover.”

“That’s why I found you in the first fucking place!” Hidan said. “We both know I can’t plan or sneak around for shit, so use that giant nerd brain of yours for once and get us out of this shit hole.”

Izuku’s face turned serious. “Right. First, we need to engineer some sort of distraction…”

The green-haired boy launched into his plan, hands flying as he gestured along to his murmuring as Hidan listened with uncharacteristic focus. 

With Jashin-sama’s blessing, they would make it out of this mess, just as they had done hundreds of times before. 

(Neither noticed the pair of eyes watching them, one frost blue and one blood red. As the Hidan and Izuku separated to carry out the stages of their hastily-assembled plan, the owner of the eyes blinked, thinking deeply, before fading into the darkness.)  
  
  


— — — — — 

  
  


Everyone was in place. Izuku could see Shouji and Sero crouched at the ready, while Ashido flashed a subtle thumbs-up. Jirou huddled close to Shinsou, fiddling with her earphone jacks as she and the purple-haired teen adjusted his artificial vocal cord equipment. All they needed now was Izuku’s signal. 

He sent a brief prayer to Jashin. It was time to put his plan into motion.

Izuku leapt into the air with a yell, fist outstretched and already crackling with green energy and aimed right at Shigaraki—he needed to distract the Villain, give Aizawa and Thirteen-sensei some breathing room while providing an opening for his classmates. If he could get in a good punch and get out quickly, he should be able to avoid Shigaraki’s Disintegration Quirk— 

Only, instead of hitting his target, Izuku slammed into a blur of black, knocking him back and absorbing the full impact of One For All. Izuku could only gape as he fell. Whatever the thing was, it hadn’t even  _ flinched  _ at All Might’s Quirk. 

And yet, before he even hit the ground, Hidan-nii’s scythe shot out of nowhere, catching the monster neatly around the neck between the first and second blade of the weapon. The sheer momentum his brother had thrown it with caused the scythe to loop in a circle, before jerking the monster off-course and sending it crashing to the ground. It roared, struggling to untangle itself from the scythe, pinned to the ground by its weight and how the blades had buried themselves into the ground, trapping the thing’s neck. 

“ _ Hidan!”  _ Shigaraki roared. Crap, Izuku gulped, scrambling backward. Hidan-nii’s cover was about to be blown, and his plan would be over before it even started. 

Except the gray-haired man only strolled onto the scene leisurely, hands in his pockets as he navigated the terrain with enviably ease. “Sorry, sorry,” he said, “thought that thing was a surprise Hero. Give us some fucking warning that it’s on our side next time, bitch.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Izuku noticed Aizawa-sensei glance intently at Hidan-nii, even through all his fighting. He filed that information into the back of his mind for later, before turning his attention back to the task at hand.

Shigaraki snarled at Hidan-nii. “Make sure it doesn’t happen again, or I’ll use my Quirk on your face. Noumu is the  _ key  _ to GAME OVER for All Might, you know. Weren’t you paying attention to the backstory?!”

“Whatever, bitch,” Hidan-nii said, ambling over to the monster, apparently called Noumu. He crouched over it, grumbling curses as he appeared to struggle to shift the scythe out of the ground while Noumu flailed. His brother couldn’t keep up the charade forever, unfortunately, and eventually tugged his weapon out of the ground and jumped away. 

It wasn’t forever, but it was enough. 

In the precious seconds Hidan-nii had bought them, Shouji and Sero were able to reach Thirteen-sensei’s side, the six-armed teen hauling the Hero to safety while fending off the few Villains still paying attention, Sero frantically taping up the dissolved part of Thirteen’s suit. 

Meanwhile, Ashido, having snuck around to the other side of the clearing, had been steadily leaking acid into the ground to Shigaraki’s left, hopefully softening and destabilizing it. From the right, an unexpected sheet of ice was slowly but steadily creeping its way toward the hand-covered Villain as well.

Good, Izuku thought, a touch hysterical. At least some of his classmates had the ability to think for themselves. 

“Where do you think you’re going, you extras?!” Shigaraki said, finally noticing Shouji and Sero. “This cutscene isn’t over yet!” Behind him, Noumu roared, hauling itself off the ground. 

Hidan-nii took the chance to jump into the thick of the battle between the rest of the Villains and Aizawa-sensei, miraculously stealthy as Izuku saw flashes of his scythe amidst the chaos. Thankfully, it seemed neither Shigaraki nor the misty-looking Villain noticed, too caught up with their explanation of Noumu’s powers. 

Izuku shuddered at the thought of the monster. Would All Might even be able to defeat Noumu in his current state? How did the Villains even manage to make an entire living being like that, designed for the sole purpose of resisting the Symbol of Peace?

_ No time for those kinds of thoughts right now,  _ Izuku chastised himself. His classmates had made it back to the safety of cover, with Thirteen-sensei in tow. Hopefully, Sero’s tape would be able to suffice for now in repairing the Hero’s suit. 

In the clearing, Shigaraki finally cut off his nth monologue of the day, seeming to ready himself to resume his battle with Aizawa-sensei—except he clearly was about to send Noumu instead. Izuku's mind whirred, spinning through analyses in a split second. If he attacked again, even if Noumu could absorb his borrowed Quirk, Shigaraki would be forced to divert his attention from the main battle, buying Aizawa-sensei and Hidan-nii more time. 

One For All flooded through his arm, and he once again hurled himself at Shigaraki at break-neck speed. Izuku could hear Hidan-nii’s mad cackle of laughter in the air, whipping by him too quickly to process as his momentum carried him through the air. 

With a solid thud, Izuku hit home against Noumu’s chest. 

With a massive boom _ ,  _ Kacchan and Kirishima literally exploded onto the scene, slamming against Noumu’s arm at the same time, managing to knock the monster off-balance in tandem with Izuku’s punch. 

With a sharp crack, the destabilized ground under Shigaraki’s feet finally gave way, shards of ice mixing into the acidic sludge as the Villain stumbled and sank. 

And with a heavy crash, the doors to the Unforeseen Joint Simulation were thrown open, revealing a heavily-panting Iida with a legion of angry Pro-Hero teachers, Quirks fired up and ready to take down the rest of the Villains. 

“It’s Game Over, Shigaraki!” A strong voice called, rising above the clamor of battle around them. 

The hand-covered Villain whirled with a snarl. “Like fuck it is—”

“Call off Noumu and go to sleep,” Shinsou said. Jirou hovered nearby, her earphone jacks plugged into his Hero equipment and amplifying his words. 

Shigaraki obeyed. 

Izuku let out a laugh, relief sweeping through him in a wave. It was over. His plan had worked. 

“Are you quite alright, my boy?” All Might asked, sitting next to Izuku in the clinic room. 

Izuku grinned. “Yup!” He chirped, “Besides some hairline fractures, Recovery Girl only said I had a bit of internal bleeding, which is great, because that’s where the blood is supposed to be!”

His idol choked, spewing blood in a way that was decidedly outside of his body. Concerned, Izuku hurriedly grabbed a box full of tissues for him, which the man accepted gratefully. 

He wondered how much worse off the Hero would have been if he’d been forced to fight Noumu today, if the League’s plan had worked out successfully. Izuku sent a quick prayer of thanks to Jashin that it hadn’t. 

“My boy,” All Might coughed, “we really need to work on your sense of self-preservation. You can’t keep breaking your body like this every time you use your Quirk, or Recovery Girl will have my head.”

“But I didn’t fully break my arm this time! I think I’m starting to get the hang of how One For All really works, at least enough to lower my injury rate,” Izuku said. 

“...You didn’t break your arm?” All Might said. “That is good news indeed. But how did you manage it? You haven’t been using it outside my supervision before now, have you?”

Izuku shook his head. “No, no, just theorizing. I had the idea to try circulating One For All through my arm, so that the impact would be spread out a little more instead of concentrated in one area.” He carefully did not mention that it was Hidan-nii who had given him the idea, saying that it was a ‘chakra’ exercise from his home world that seemed to apply well enough to Izuku’s Quirk. “It sort of worked at USJ, but it was my first time trying it, so I think I need to try a broader area of circulation since I still fractured my bones.”

“Very good, very good,” All Might said, “you’ve been making more progress than I expected. I would be happy to talk through more of your theories with you, should you come up with more.” He coughed. “You seem rather inclined to this sort of analysis. When young Iida came to fetch us at U.A., he said you were the one who had put together the plan for him to escape while the rest of you distracted the Villains at USJ.”

“I was only trying to get us all out alive,” Izuku mumbled, blushing at his idol’s praise. “But more importantly, the lead Villain said that Noumu was designed to stop you. They said they wanted to kill you.” He looked up at All Might. “Will you be okay? I doubt they’re going to stop targeting you anytime soon.”

All Might reached out a hand, ruffling Izuku’s hair. “Fear not, my boy,” he rumbled, “for I have dealt with innumerable Villains with similar goals before. That Noumu fellow may be engineered to be my nemesis, but there is power within me yet. The Symbol of Peace still stands. I will not abandon you so soon, my boy.”

Izuku managed a tremulous smile. He shouldn’t be so worried—nobody had died today. All Might was still here. Hidan-nii was okay. As long as they continued to live, struggling and fighting, Jashin would smile upon them. 

  
  


— — — — — 

  
  


Shouta slouched in the passenger seat of Hizashi’s car, carefully cradling his injured elbow into his chest—the one the hand Villain had managed to touch with his Quirk—and picked unhappily at the mountain of gauze it was wrapped in. The strap of the sling was already biting uncomfortably into his back. 

Hizashi reached over and slapped Shouta’s good hand away from the gauze as he drove, eyes never leaving the road as he hummed along to the car radio.

_ Damn it _ , Shouta thought to himself. He hated being injured. It could have been worse, though. If the other Heroes hadn’t arrived when they had, if his students weren’t as quick on the uptake, if he’d had to fight that Noumu monster… 

Even though it was a hot day, he couldn’t help but shiver a bit. 

It was too bad they didn’t manage to take the lead Villain covered in hands into custody. The other Villain, with the warp Quirk, had opened a portal and whisked him away the moment that it was obvious their plan had failed. Naomasa had informed him that the rest of the Villains they’d taken into custody were all cannon fodder, petty criminals that the two leaders appeared to have recruited off the streets.

Unfortunately, they had not captured a certain gray-haired, violet-eyed individual. 

Shouta wondered about him. His three-pronged scythe had stood out to Shouta, the deep red blades catching the sunlight in a way he would have called stunning if it weren’t for the blood. At first, Shouta had marked him as a serious enemy, likely on-par with the leaders of the Villains, especially with the way he seemed to revel in violence. 

Only a minute or so into the battle, however, the man had abruptly turned on his own comrades. He was terrifyingly efficient, blazing his way through the Villains as if they were nothing more than paper under his scythe. At the time, Shouta knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. Despite his bloodlust, he’d effectively cut away a significant amount of fighting Shouta would have had to face otherwise. 

He’d lost track of the gray-haired man for a little while. In facing the head Villain’s disintegration Quirk and his and Thirteen’s subsequent injuries, he’d had bigger fish to fry. 

The next time Shouta saw him, the man had inadvertently saved one of his students, throwing his scythe to intercept Noumu in a truly stunning display of strength and marksmanship. 

Now, though, Shouta couldn’t help but feel that the man had known exactly what he was doing. His confrontation with the hand-covered Villain couldn’t have been anything except a gambit to buy time, distracting his leader from targeting his students as they launched a hairbrained, but admittedly successful, campaign to save Thirteen. Not only that, but he’d immediately gone back to taking down his own comrades afterward, once he was no longer in his leader’s line of sight. 

Shouta wondered if he was as Villainous as he pretended to be. The man was no Hero by any means—but then, perhaps he wasn’t an enemy, either. Perhaps the Heroes had someone on their side as they prepared to face an unprecedented threat. 

Perhaps they already had an ally within the League of Villains. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hidan: is actually a small child in the body of an immortal, S-ranked criminal
> 
> Also, why didn't Hidan warn Izuku about the Noumu? Why didn't he know about it himself?  
Answer: you have the audacity to think Hidan listens when people who aren't Izuku or Jashin talk??
> 
> And that's that on USJ! This was a lot of fun to write, especially as Hidan and Izuku's fuckery becomes more and more apparent.  
Please let me know what you think and thank you for reading! As always, comments absolutely make my day!


	6. advanced placement? more like advanced pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the calm before the storm that is the U.A. Sports Festival.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Hidan’s language/violence as usual, and a suicide/self-harm reference but it’s in the context of Hidan’s immortality. Also, discussions of physical and mental abuse by people who think Izuku is being abused, but it’s all speculation and none of it is actually true.

“Hidan-nii!” Izuku called, running into the dingey living room. “Hidan-nii! Are you home?”

“Why do you always yell so damn loud?!” Hidan-nii called back, voice much louder than Izuku’s. 

Izuku rounded the corner to the kitchen, where he found Hidan-nii slamming their refrigerator door shut. He could practically feel the assessing gaze the man ran over him, checking him for anything amiss, a habit Hidan-nii had picked up ever since their USJ misadventures. 

In return, Izuku had taken to calling loudly for his brother-figure whenever he returned home from school, both to assure the man that he was alright and to check for himself if Hidan was also okay. It was just their way of worrying about one another. 

Izuku slung his backpack onto the ground beside their tiny table, rummaging through a cupboard for an after-school snack. “How was your day, Hidan-nii? Is the League still laying low?”

“Fucking boring as ever,” Hidan said, throwing himself dramatically into a wobbling chair. “Nothing to see, nothing to do, nobody to kill,” he whined. “Sometimes, I want to kill myself just to feel something again.” 

“Aww,” Izuku said, “I’m sure Jashin-sama appreciates your sacrifice. At least Shigaraki isn’t causing any trouble for us right now.” 

Hidan grumbled in annoyance. “Whatever.”

Izuku triumphantly located their last bag of potato chips. “Please keep an ear out, though, Hidan-nii? Aizawa-sensei announced today in class that this year’s Sports Festival is coming up soon. He said something about increased security, but I wouldn’t put it past Shigaraki to try something.”

“Sports Festival?” Hidan-nii said. “The fuck is that? Why does your shitty school get up to so much shit all the time?”

“It’s a student competition U.A. puts on every year,” Izuku explained patiently. “The Sports Festival is one of the most popular televised events in Japan, and it’s a chance for students to show off their skills for the Hero Industry. It can be a career-defining moment for a lot of people.”

“Huh,” Hidan said, “actually, that sounds like the Chuunin Exams my old world had.” Izuku perked up, eager to hear more stories about Hidan-nii’s mysterious universe of origin. “It’s kinda the same deal—genin from different villages compete in different tests for the chance of promotion to chuunin. I bet your Fuck-stival doesn’t allow maiming and killing, though.” Hidan chortled darkly to himself. 

“Er, no,” Izuku said, “it doesn’t.”

“Losers,” Hidan said. 

“But why would killing be allowed?” Izuku asked, tilting his head in confusion. “Wouldn’t that decrease the pool of potential chuunin? It seems inefficient, in the long run.”

“If you don’t even have the skills to defend against a genin, you deserve what you get,” Hidan answered, matter-of-fact. 

Izuku supposed that made sense. 

“Killing isn’t mandatory, though,” Hidan continued. “If it happens, it happens, but it’s generally frowned on by weak-ass villages like Konoha. You’re right that killing can be inefficient, though,” he admitted. “Kiri’s old graduation test involved pitting their students against one another to the death, with only one survivor in an entire class. Fucking awesome to watch, but they eventually had to stop since they kept running out of new shinobi to add to their forces.”

“Well, I’m glad your old village wasn’t like that, Hidan-nii!” Izuku said, smiling at the gray-haired man. “Or else you might not have been able to come here and find me.”

“Shut the fuck up, nerd,” Hidan muttered, looking away from Izuku. “Besides, you’re a fucking idiot if you think I would have let some no-name heathen kill me.”

“Right, right,” Izuku said, nodding.

“Anyway, when did you say your shitty thing was happening?” Hidan asked. 

“Two weeks from now,” Izuku said, tearing open his potato chips. “It’ll be at the big stadium I told you about, next to the main U.A. campus.” 

Hidan-nii stretched in his chair. “I’ll ask around tomorrow at the hideout,” he said with a sigh. “It’s not like there’s anything else to do.”

“Thanks, Hidan-nii!” Izuku said cheerfully.

“Whatever, brat.” Hidan rolled his eyes. “Hurry up and finish your food. We’re going sparring.”

“What, again?!” Izuku yelped. “But we just sparred this morning!”

“Hey, you said yourself that you need to get physically stronger to handle your fucking Quirk better,” Hidan said with a growl. “Don’t think I didn’t notice your injuries from after USJ.”

“But I’m getting better!” Izuku protested. “I didn’t even fully break my arm. Plus, I’ve been doing more theorizing about One For All.”

“So?” Hidan raised an eyebrow. “How does that fucking help?”

Izuku sprang up, grabbing a notebook from his backpack and eagerly launching into his latest spiel. “It helps a lot, Hidan-nii! If One For All is a strength-enhancing Quirk, then it must be increasing the amount of force my muscles are able to produce when I activate it. Force is equal to mass times acceleration. Since I’m not feeling my muscles grow in size significantly, One For All must be greatly increasing the acceleration I’m able to produce. Since every force has an equal and opposite reaction, my bones are likely breaking from the rebound whenever I hit something.” 

Hidan stared at him. “Uh.” 

Izuku continued, “I was also inspired by your explanation of chakra and how you use it to enhance your own strength by circulating it through your body. So, my next step should be to try and circulate One For All more, so when I activate it in my arm and hit something, the rest of my body will be reinforced against the rebound the impact produces. Logically, that should mitigate the strain on my bones and prevent anything from breaking.”

All Might had found his reasoning to be solid when Izuku had told him about his latest ideas—edited to leave out any incriminating information about Hidan, as always. Izuku couldn’t wait for his next chance to test out his theory. 

Hidan, naturally, did not seem to have understood anything Izuku had said in the least. “I don’t fucking care about all that shit,” he said, irritated. “You said you needed to keep getting stronger. You do that by sparring with me. So, we’re sparring again.” 

Izuku knew when to pick his battles. This was an argument he couldn’t win. With a groan, he put his notebook down and went to change into exercise clothes. 

  
  


He laid on the ground of the training studio, sweat soaking the back of his shirt as he panted for air. Beside him, Shinsou was sprawled out in a similar position, both trying to recover from their intense round of boxing. 

“The Sports Festival is coming up, ribbit,” Tsuyu said, handing Izuku a blessedly-cool bottle of water. “How are you preparing for it, Izu-kun?”

“Well, we’re all preparing for it like this, aren’t we?” Izuku panted, pulling himself into a sitting position. Uraraka giggled on his left as she leant down and offered Shinsou a hand up.

His after school practice sessions with his friends—Shinsou, Tsuyu, Uraraka, and occasionally Iida (although he was typically busy with his family)—had evolved into something of a frenzy in the last week, as the students scrambled to heighten their skills while juggling school work and family obligations. Izuku found himself more exhausted every day, as he stayed up later and later at night to cram everything in. Plus, Hidan-nii had made good on his promise to help Izuku beef up even more, training him intensely in his explosive, hard-knock method. 

“I wonder if it will all be enough,” Uraraka mused, moving through a series of cool-down stretches. “I mean, I’ve been working on my Quirk every day, and sparring with you guys, but we don’t really know how far along everyone else is…”

“As long as we all do our best, I’m sure it will turn out alright,” Tsuyu said. 

Shinsou sighed. “We’ll just have to wait and see, I suppose.” He wiped at his forehead with a towel. “At least I’ve mostly kept my Quirk a secret. But once the Festival is televised, everyone will know about my Brainwashing. I won’t be able to use it as a surprise tactic again after all this.”

Izuku knew he was thinking about USJ and how he’d managed to take down Shigaraki. “Don’t worry about it, Shinsou-san,” he said soothingly. “Even if people see it on television, they still won’t expect it when you do use it on them. Trust me, seeing and knowing are two very different things. Besides, once you become a Pro-Hero, you could also try disguising yourself so Villains won’t be able to recognize you.”

“I suppose,” Shinsou said. “But like I said, we can only wait at this point.”

“I just hope I won’t end up facing someone with a Quirk I’m not suited for,” Uraraka said, twisting her hands together. “I really want to show off all my skills for agencies to see.”

“I’m more worried about security, ribbit,” Tsuyu added. “It seems very difficult to monitor an event this big.”

Izuku pulled himself off the ground, joining Uraraka in her stretches. “Aizawa-sensei said the entire staff has put together a solution,” he reminded them. “If nothing else, Principal Nedzu is a genius. I have faith in them. Besides, nobody even died or was permanently injured at USJ!”

His friends paused, looking at each other. 

“Er, Midoriya-san, is that really your standard for success?” Uraraka asked. 

“I mean, as long as you’re alive, everything else can be resolved, right?” Izuku said. “Your suffering in the present becomes a part of your history. It moves you forward to whatever comes next.”

“Midoriya…” Shinsou said. “Geez, I never know if you’re being morbid or optimistic. Not sure if I want to know, either.”

“I’m just voicing my thoughts!” Izuku giggled cheerfully. “Hey, you all want to go study for Mic-sensei’s test tomorrow at that new cafe? I heard their matcha ice cream is amazing.”

The conversation naturally devolved into more mundane chatter as the four cleaned up the training studio. Izuku smiled to himself, the pressing issues of the Sports Festivals and the League of Villains far from his mind. 

For now, he could allow himself to bask in the simple joys of spending time with his friends. 

  
  


— — — — — 

  
  


Tsukauchi Naomasa was a logical man. 

As one of Japan’s foremost detectives on the police force, his deductive reasoning skills had been put to the test time and time again. His ability to read a scene, absorb each minute detail and piece together the story the evidence told, set him apart from his peers. It wasn’t arrogance to say that he was one of the best of the best—it was just the truth. While Naomasa wouldn’t be so pompous as to say he’d never encountered a case he couldn’t solve before, such incidents were few and far in between. 

Until the Chinoike Killer Case. 

When the killer’s first few bodies were found, Naomasa could hardly believe the sheer amount of violence he’d witnessed in the blood-painted alleyway. The Villains’ bodies indicated a slow, agonizing death, with wounds inflicted by deep cuts—the killer had extended their suffering as long as possible, bled them out slowly in order to achieve maximum pain. Several of Naomasa’s squad, all seasoned officers with years on the force, had thrown up on the pavement. He’d felt much the same way. 

It was the body of the woman that had baffled them. Midoriya Inko, thirty-seven, an unassuming work-from-home single mother whose Quirk was registered as ‘Attraction of Small Objects.’ Like the Villains, she had been killed by a single stab through her throat. Unlike the Villains, her body bore significantly less signs of torture; her wounds were fatal, but had been inflicted from a different source than the Villains’ wounds—save for her throat, her wounds could all be attributed to the various Villains’ Quirks.

Naomasa’s instincts told him that her death was fundamentally separated from the Villains. The throat-stabbings were undeniably from the same weapon, but Midoriya Inko’s killing felt… peaceful. Almost like a mercy-killing. 

Ultimately, however, she’d been killed just the same. No matter the intentions, it was another death the killer would have to answer for in the eyes of justice.

What was more chilling was the complete and utter disappearance of her ten-year-old son, Midoriya Izuku. A search of the two’s modest apartment yielded no results; neighbors all stated that the last they saw of the boy was when he and his mother departed for their disastrous market trip that fateful morning. Missing-persons alerts produced no leads. It was as if he’d disappeared off the face of the Earth. Although Naomasa’s colleagues remained upbeat in the face of the press, he and many others privately feared the worst. 

Meanwhile, a pattern of killings matching the first incident sprang up throughout the Greater Tokyo Area. Most often, the murders occurred in seedy back-alleyways, the distinctive triplet of slash marks and the fatal throat-stabbing connecting the incidents into a bloody map across Naomasa’s office wall. A month and two days after the first killing, Naomasa became the official lead detective of the Chinoike Killer Case, tasked with hunting down the most notorious serial killer Japan had seen in centuries. 

The killer was a complete unknown. All DNA evidence found at the scenes produced no matches from their databases, and there were never any eye-witnesses who were able to describe the killer’s appearance. Whatever Quirk they possessed, it gave them monstrous strength and speed, capable of isolating their victims and bleeding them out horrifically before killing them. A crazed maniac, the news said. 

Naomasa wasn’t so sure. The Chinoike Killer’s targets were always Villains or criminals of some kind, he noted, and the extreme violence spoke more of vengeance than mindless fury. The killer was working toward some sort of goal, he theorized, was fulfilling some sort of mission. The throat-stabbings screamed of some sort of ritual, significant only to the killer. Naomasa would even go so far as to posit that the killings were religious in nature—vengeance for what the killer viewed as sin, perhaps? 

Five years passed, the Chinoike Killer always three steps ahead of the police; the media stopped covering the case altogether, losing interest. 

And then, Midoriya Izuku registered for the U.A. Hero Course Entrance Exams.

Naomasa had known instantly that the boy had to be connected to the Chinoike Killer Case. His disappearance was intrinsically tied to Case Zero. His reappearance was the first solid breakthrough his task force had seen… ever. 

Of course, it didn’t help when All Might had admitted he’d chosen Midoriya for his successor and already passed One For All to him. Nothing in Naomasa’s life could be easy, could it?

He and Chief Tsuragamae had met with Principal Nedzu, and they’d all agreed on allowing Midoriya to take the Exams, and then attend class, in order to keep such an important asset to the case close to them, to gain his trust. They couldn’t risk spooking the current holder of One For All and have him disappear without a trace again. Nedzu promised to assign a trusted Hero to such a sensitive mission, and Eraserhead—Aizawa Shouta—had not disappointed. 

“Midoriya’s a hard worker,” Aizawa rumbled, during one of his meetings with the task force. “He’s friendly with his classmates, and they all know to go to him if they need help with an assignment. He idolizes Pro-Heroes. Has a formidable knack for analysis.”

“Does he talk about his home life at all? Any signs of abuse or trauma? Mentions of the Chinoike Killer harming him?” Naomasa asked. 

“No,” Aizawa said, “none. Not physically, anyway.”

Naomasa raised his eyebrow. “Not physically? So you think there could be some sort of mental or emotional abuse?”

“That’s the thing,” Aizawa sighed heavily. “I can’t say for certain, yet. He doesn’t have any injuries, old or new, but Midoriya fights like he’s been trained for years. He’s got an incredibly morbid view on life—he’s fixated on the idea of suffering, of pain, and insists that it’s the most valuable aspect of life.”

“From witnessing his mother’s death?” Naomasa mused. 

“Potentially,” Aizawa said, “it’s the best explanation I can think of, anyway. Also, he has an absurdly high tolerance for pain. Recovery Girl keeps threatening to ban him from using his Quirk altogether from the sheer amount of damage it does to his body, but he seems completely unbothered by it.”

Naomasa frowned. “So we can’t rule out physical abuse, after all.”

“Not only that,” Aizawa said, “but during Toshinori’s first class, he ran a simulation to test the students. It took Midoriya about ten minutes to completely rig up a four-story building with booby traps. Most of them were harmless, only meant to impede and capture his classmates, but they were clearly derived from much deadlier versions. Whoever’s been raising this kid, they’ve been teaching him some truly ruthless tactics.”

“Perhaps the Chinoike Killer is trying to raise a protege,” Naomasa mused out loud. “Someone to carry on the mission once they’re gone. Who better to continue such a legacy than the child of one of their first victims?”

Aizawa snorted. “Well, good luck with turning Midoriya into a killer,” he said. “Despite everything, the kid’s still blindly devoted to All Might and the Symbol of Peace.”

They’d paused the conversation there. Naomasa knew he had to be patient, allow Aizawa to establish more of a connection with Midoriya, or else all their work would be for nothing.

He’d been content to wait, but then Aizawa had come back from a class field trip with an elbow in a sling and information about the League of Villains. And reports about a gray-haired, violet-eyed man who seemed more Vigilante than Villain. 

This ‘Hidan’ fit the profile of the Chinoike Killer… disturbingly well. Violent, abrasive, no stranger to killing—but also a willingness to turn on his Villain comrades, especially when the League began targeting children, indicating some sort of code of ethics. There was no record of a man with that name or the appearance Aizawa had described, further supporting his connection with the Chinoike case. Additionally, the bizarre three-pronged scythe the man wielded matched the strange injuries left on the killer’s victims than any other weapon Naomasa had ever encountered as a detective. 

To think, the Chinoike Serial Killer could potentially be their greatest ally against the League of Villains. Five years of hunting such a notorious criminal that may not be as heinous a killer as they’d previously thought. 

Naomasa couldn’t help but laugh. He’d thought nothing could surprise him anymore in life.

Clearly, he was wrong. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> izuku: talks about a basic physics concept  
hidan: what up im hidan i'm 19 and i never fucking learned how to read
> 
> I can’t believe I summoned the last remaining scraps of my AP physics knowledge for the sake of fanfiction,, of course Izuku as a 15 y/old would know more about this subject than I've ever managed learned in my entire life  
tbh the chapter title refers more to this than the content of the chapter itself LOL
> 
> And here we have more speculation by the Heroes about Hidan (with some correct conclusions and some incorrect), and preparation for the exciting Sports Festival! Thank you for reading and please let me know what you think, I am always delighted to see your comments!


	7. welcome to the 2020 summer olympics!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for the Sports Festival! Surely nothing could possibly go wrong, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow i love the olympics  
Warnings for Hidan and Bakugou's language.

_ Are you watching, All Might?  _ Izuku thought, grinning wildly into the blinding flashes of cameras all around him, the roar of the stadium washing over him.  _ I’m showing the world what I can do. What the next  _ Symbol of Peace _ can do. _

He could hear Kacchan grinding his teeth beside him, the blond’s anger at finishing after Izuku causing literal smoke to curl off his skin. Izuku imagined that he definitely had a fair bit of ash smeared across his face from being caught in Kacchan’s explosions, too. Way to make an impression on the audience, he supposed. 

At least he wasn’t covered in neon paint and liberally doused in glitter, fake boa feathers, and confetti like many of his peers that had started the race behind Izuku. He giggled quietly to himself as the unfortunate souls in question began exiting the finish line and stumbling onto national television. It was good to see that his various traps and pitfalls he’d improvised had worked, and even Hidan-nii had to have gotten a kick out of seeing that.

Kacchan leaned over, into Izuku’s face. “I won’t forgive you for this, shitty Deku,” he growled. “How the fuck did you manage to get first place?”

Izuku smiled up at him. “I just used my brain!” And the severed torso of a robot he’d blasted off using a tiny burst of One For All. “You would be surprised at what you can achieve if you thought about using yours too, Kacchan.”

The blond seemed to choke on nothing, face turning red from what Izuku presumed to be a lack of airflow.

“Careful, Kacchan!” He chirped, thumping the other boy on the back. “The second round is about to start!”

Before Kacchan could say anything more, Midnight-sensei took the stage, and Izuku suddenly had a lot more to worry about than his childhood friend’s strange ailments. Namely, the shiny new ten-million point headband flapping innocently in his hands. 

As Midnight-sensei finished explaining the rules and the students around him erupted into noise, Izuku furrowed his brow, mind racing. Obviously, the ten-million headband was meant to paint a target on his back, automatically singling his team out for the most attacks, the ultimate disadvantage to start the Cavalry Battle with. He could still make this work, though. He just needed the right people— 

“Midoriya-san!” Izuku’s head snapped up. “Over here!” Uraraka waved frantically at him, and he jogged over to her gratefully. He saw Shinsou out of the corner of his eye, but the purple-haired boy was already surrounded by several of his other classmates. Unsurprising, as Shinsou likely had his own plan already. That was alright, though; Izuku could still work with that.

“Do you have anyone you’ve teamed up with, yet?” He asked Uraraka.

“No, no, I wanted to team up with you,” she said. “I think it would be best for us to go into this battle with people that we’re familiar with, to better coordinate our moves.”

“Good thinking,” Izuku said, relieved. One teammate down. “Ah, Tsuyu-chan! Iida-san!” He waved to his remaining friends. “Would you two care to join my team? I have a plan that—”

Tsuyu flicked her tongue. “Ah, sorry, Izu-kun,” she said. “I was actually… hoping to join a different team than you for this round.”

Iida nodded. “As do I!” He said. “Midoriya, you have been a very good friend to me this year, and you’ve taught me a lot about being a Hero. You too, Uraraka. However, in order to truly become a Hero in my own right, I must learn to stand on my own two feet.”

“I would also like to make some new friends, ribbit,” Tsuyu agreed.

Izuku smiled. “I understand,” he said, reaching out and pulling his friends into a hug. “Then, as your rival for this Sports Festival, I’ll be sure to fight you with everything I’ve got.”

“As will I!” Iida said, returning Izuku’s hug before spinning sharply on his heel and walking away.

“See you on the other side, Izu-kun, Ocha-chan,” Tsuyu said, taking her leave as well. 

Izuku’s thoughts spun around his head. He’d have to rework part of his original strategy, but it could still be salvageable. He narrowed his eyes. But who to pick for the rest of his team?

“Uraraka-san, could you go find Tokoyami-san?” He said. “Ask him if he would like to join our team. I’ve got a plan that could make use of his Quirk.”

“Sure thing, Midoriya-san!” Uraraka said, turning and squeezing into the crowd of students around him. 

Izuku continued to think, mumbling to himself as time ticked down toward the start of the Cavalry Battle. 

“Hey hey hey!” A new voice cut in. Izuku turned to see a pink-haired girl approaching him, decked out in so much gear that it was a wonder she could drag it all with her. “Looks like you need another teammate! I’m Hatsume Mei, at your service!”

“Midoriya Izuku,” Izuku said, bowing politely. He tilted his head at her. “You’re from the Support Department, right?”

“You betcha!” Hastume said. “I’ve got all sorts of equipment with me that would help during this battle, you know? Binoculars, rocket roller blades, explosives, armor…” 

Izuku frowned thoughtfully. “Why would you want to team up with us, though? You don’t know me or Uraraka, and the ten-million point headband is going to be more hassle than it’s worth.”

“Doesn’t matter to me!” Hatsume grinned. “All I want is to show off my babies to the world! The Hero Support companies are all here watching the tournament, you know, and the cameras will all be watching you. There’s no better advertisement!”

“Well then,” Izuku said, smile slowly stretching across his face. “Welcome to the team, Hatsume-san.”

Uraraka returned with Tokoyami in tow. “I would be interested in your plan to succeed in this battle, especially considering the burden of your headband,” the dark teen said in greeting.

“It’s fine! I have a plan!” Izuku said, leaning forward as his newfound teammates huddled in around him. “And it goes like this…” 

“Left, Uraraka!” Izuku called, leaning backward and narrowly dodging an outstretched arm snatching at his headband. Their formation jerked to the left, aided by a well-timed explosion from one of Hatsume’s babies as Uraraka taps them into weightlessness. 

The attacks were relentless. Teams bore down on them from all sides, their fellow classmates desperate to tear the ten-million point headband from Izuku’s head. It was only thanks to Uraraka’s Quirk and fast instincts that they were able to maneuver away from each assault in time, while Izuku shouted directions from his higher vantage point. 

Bright pink goo splattered across Tetsutetsu from 1-B, solidifying into a sticky mess and tripping his team. “And that was my Super Soaker Maximus™!” Hatsume said, voice magnified by her microphone device. “Can shoot any liquid formula up to a 30-meter radius!” Another shot, this time across Aoyama’s stomach, plugging up his naval laser. “Thanks for the pink paint, Midoriya. Really helps show off my baby’s power!”

“Anytime, Hatsume-san,” Izuku said, blocking Ojirou’s tail with his arm and neatly flipping the other boy’s momentum into an oncoming attack, a move Hidan-nii had taught him. “Everything good, Tokoyami-san?”

“Misfortune has yet to befall us,” Tokoyami replied, Dark Shadow lashing around him. “Your strategy is quite well-formed, Midoriya.”

“I just hope it all turns out in our favor,” Izuku said. “Todoroki’s team to our six! Here they come!”

The ground iced over beneath them, twisting and churning as it unerringly shot toward Izuku’s headband. Uraraka tapped them into weightlessness momentarily, preventing the three bottom students’ feet from becoming stuck in the ice. They land onto the now-slippery terrain. 

“Ha!” Hatsume cried, cutting through a massive net Yaoyorozu tried to cast around them with a buzzing blade. “My darling Vibro-Knife can slice through most solid materials thanks to its unique alloy metal and high-frequency vibrations!”

“Resistance is pointless,” Todoroki’s voice called to them. “I will be taking the ten-million point headband now, Midoriya.”

“Uraraka-san! Get in close!” Izuku said. “Watch out for Kaminari’s electricity!”

They advanced on Todoroki’s team, Izuku relying on the instincts Hidan-nii had honed in him to dodge flying projectiles of all kinds while keeping his attention focused on Todoroki’s actions. Once they’re close enough, they can— 

Iida’s engines rev, and Team Todoroki shot forward, Todoroki’s outstretched hand catching Izuku’s headband and pulling it off. 

“ _ No _ !” Izuku screamed, holding his hand up to his mouth in surprise. “Todoroki-san took the ten-million point headband!” He smiled as chaos erupted around them, teams immediately changing tactics and rushing toward Todoroki. Izuku dropped Hatsume’s microphone device down into her outstretched hand. “Alright, here we go. Uraraka-san, pursue!”

Blending in with the confusion, they danced through the teams targeting Todoroki as the time counted down. By the time Team Midoriya broke through to face Todoroki again, they were down to one minute. 

Time seemed to slow as Todoroki’s eyes met Izuku’s, and the other teen’s left arm suddenly burst into flame. Izuku stiffened. He hadn’t predicted Todoroki would bring out his fire—his teammates were all distracted, focused on the tasks he’d assigned them rather than Todoroki. He needed to protect them.

Almost as if on instinct, Izuku circulated One For all through his arm, the familiar buzz of the overwhelming energy setting his teeth on edge. With a flick of his wrist, he unleashed the smallest iota of the Quirk he could manage. Wind whipped around him, slamming into Todoroki and extinguishing his flames. Shock flickered across Todoroki’s face as Izuku’s team suddenly lurched forward, and Izuku’s hand shot out in order to grab a headband off of the other teen. 

Everything snapped back into real-time, just as the buzzer sounded and the Cavalry Battle drew to a close. Izuku turned to his teammates and smiled, delighted.

Eventually, Midnight-sensei made it to their team to check how many points they had. “Alright, Team Midoriya, show me your headbands,” she announced dramatically. 

Izuku grinned as cheekily as he could into the cameras. “Well,” he said, “I only have this 70-point one.” He held up the headband he’d grabbed from Todoroki. 

“But,” Tokoyami spoke beside him, “I have all of these.” Dark Shadow unfurled in a flourish, revealing an enormous pile of headbands clutched in its grasp. “I collected these while the other teams were distracted, as per Midoriya’s instructions. A poetic tribute to the power of moving in the darkness.” Uraraka giggled as Midnight-sensei counted up their points.

“Well, even though these are all relatively low-point headbands…” Midnight-sensei said, tallying up their total. “They total up to 1,515 points. Which puts you in… second place! Truly an unexpected victory, Team Midoriya. Well done.”

Cheers erupted around the stadium. Izuku turned to his friends, grabbing them all in as big a hug as he could manage, tears streaming from his eyes in joy. “We did it!” 

  
  
  


— — — — — 

The Sports Festival security was a joke. Hidan fumed to himself as he wandered through the isolated side tunnels, having snuck in with barely any trouble. What the fucking fuck, Izuku had said that his school had supposedly  _ increased  _ security after the USJ disaster. If Hidan were any less invested in the shitty nerd’s safety, the League of Losers would already be here fucking shit up. 

He settled down to watch one of the many TV screens set up in the tunnels for the staff, Izuku blasting his way to first place in the obstacle race and showing up the rest of his heathen classmates. The kids showing up covered in paint and glitter were admittedly rather funny as well, and Hidan could even recognize the traps that Izuku had sprung on them. Sadly nonlethal, but he still couldn’t change the nerd’s mind on that front.

The Cavalry Battle was pretty interesting, too, if Hidan ignored the utter boredom of the lack of bloodshed and general violence. Jashin knew Hidan didn’t understand anything that was going on with the teams’ various strategies, and he couldn’t be bothered to listen to the obnoxiously-loud announcer bastard analyzing their every move. 

Hidan recognized the announcer’s emo boyfriend, at least. Izuku’s sensei, Aiza-something, looked ready to fall asleep at a moment’s notice, arm tucked into a sling from his injury from USJ. Somewhat competent, Hidan grudgingly admitted to himself. But still a bitch-ass heathen. 

Second place, not bad. That weird-ass pink girl on Izuku’s team had some pretty good moves, too. Her equipment seemed like it could be pretty lethal in the right set of hands. Bird-face set his teeth on edge, though. His shadow Quirk reminded Hidan too much of the Nara shitstain’s kekkei genkai. 

Damn, but he wished he could fight that bastard again, Hidan mused. He wanted the Nara fucker to know that his plan had failed—that Jashin-sama was stronger and mightier than anything the kid could have imagined. He idly wondered what Kakuzu and the rest of the Akatsuki were up to now, whether or not he’d ever get to see them again. Actually, Hidan couldn’t care less about them. There had been nothing left for him in that world; Jashin-sama saw fit to send him here, to give him a sacred mission in the form of Izuku. That was all the purpose Hidan needed. 

Finally, finally, the midday break came. Hidan picked up his scythe, ambling toward the meeting spot he and the nerd had agreed on the day before. When he got there, however, there was someone with Izuku already. Fucking shit. 

Hidan narrowed his eyes. It was Toda— Todo— Tome— it was the edgy Zetsu-looking kid. He ground his teeth in frustration as the teen intercepted Izuku, herding the shitty nerd into a dark corner. What did that fuckface want? What was he getting up to with Izuku in an isolated hallway? He sprinted through the shadows, pumping chakra to his ears to better hear what was happening.

“Are you the secret love-child of All Might?” He heard Tiny Zetsu ask Izuku. 

Hidan let out a quiet snort at the kid’s words, resolutely ignoring the wave of relief that crashed over him that the nerd and Tiny Zetsu weren’t up to… other things. In the darkness, the air seemed to twitch, and Hidan’s shinobi instincts suddenly flared to life.

“ _ Who’s there?!”  _ Hidan hissed, keeping his voice low so as to not tip off the Zetsu kid to his presence. 

“ _ Shut the fuck up!”  _ A voice hissed back, equally as quiet. Hidan narrowed his eyes, before the owner of the voice rounded the corner to glare at him. Shitty hair, angry red eyes, excessive cursing—

Great. It was the fucking Kacchan kid that Izuku kept talking about. His childhood friend or whatever. Truly, his day could not possibly get any better.

“ _ No,  _ you  _ shut the fuck up!”  _ He whispered, inching forward. “ _ What the fuck are you doing here?!” _

_ “I could ask you the same fucking thing!”  _ Blondie said. “ _ Who the fuck are you?” _

_ “Why the fuck would you care?”  _ Hidan said. 

“ _ What the fuck do you want with shitty Deku?!” _

“ _ Shouldn’t you be off blowing shit up or something? Get the fuck outta my way, bitch!” _

_ “You’re probably one of those fucking League Villains! I’m gonna beat your ass!” _

_ “In your dreams, fuck-face!” _

_ “I’ll fuck up  _ your  _ face, you fucking—”  _

Hidan slapped a hand around Blondie’s mouth, wrestling an arm around the kid’s shoulders while he silently snarled and bucked. If Hidan weren’t an S-ranked missing nin, the kid might’ve even done real damage. Unfortunately for Blondie, he  _ was  _ an S-ranked missing nin; as such, Hidan was able to easily pin the kid against the wall and hold him still in the shadows. Thank Jashin for small mercies. 

He glared, jerking his thumb at the corner where Izuku and Tiny Zetsu were still talking, before slicing his hand in a sharp motion across his throat. Wonders of wonders, Blondie seemed to catch his drift, scowling but remaining silent as Hidan slowly released him with a glare. They both finally managed to settle down enough to tune back into the conversation they had come to eavesdrop on in the first place.

“—but I will become a Hero without  _ that man _ ’s fire,” Tiny Zetsu’s voice said. “Don’t get in my way.”

Izuku was silent for a moment. “Ah, thank you for telling me about yourself, Todoroki-san,” he finally said, “and for trusting me with the story of your suffering. Really, I’m honored that you would share that with me.”

Blondie huffed out a puff of air, whether from amusement or something else, Hidan couldn’t be bothered to care. 

Izuku continued. “However, I can’t just stand aside and let you claim first place in the Sports Festival. I have people counting on me, too, and I’ll use every last drop of my power to ensure that I won’t let them down. Our classmates are giving it their all out there, too, Todorki-san. It would be an insult to their effort for you not to do the same.”

“Haven’t you been listening to anything I’ve said?” Tiny Zetsu said, anger in his voice. “I can’t, I won’t let  _ that man _ win—”

“I understand completely!” Izuku said. “And I know it will be hard for you to accept your fire, Todoroki-san, but that’s your burden to bear. You’ll suffer as you use it, just as you’ve already suffered, but you’ll emerge from it a stronger and better person than your father could ever have imagined. It’s  _ your  _ power, Todoroki-san. Not Endeavour’s.”

A sharp grin crossed Hidan’s face, the meager light from the hallway glinting off his teeth. “ _ Fuck ‘em up, Izuku,”  _ he muttered.

“I’m really looking forward to facing you in the next round,” Izuku said. “Please do your best!”

Tiny Zetsu seemed to be at a loss for words. 

“Anyway, I have to go now,” Izuku chirped in his signature cheery fashion. “Thanks for talking with me, Todoroki-san! I hope we can become good friends!” 

Without a sound, Tiny Zetsu turned and left.

Hidan heard the familiar cadence of the nerd’s footsteps drawing near the dark corner he was hidden in, while Tiny Zetsu’s footsteps moved further away, back toward the stadium. Fucking finally.

“Hidan-nii! Are you there?” Izuku called, voice growing louder as he approached the dark corner. 

Blondie’s eyes suddenly widened, and he scrambled to get away. Hidan grabbed the kid’s arm casually, dragging him into the light.

“Hey, Izuku!” he said. “Look what I found!”

“ _ Kacchan?!” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hidan and Bakugou, pointing at each other a la the Spiderman meme: holy fuck it me  
Alternately:  
Hidan and Bakugou share one (1) braincell, and the only thing it knows how to do is say ‘fuck’
> 
> And that's part 1 of the Sports Festival! Honestly wrestled with this chapter quite a bit, but hopefully it's still a fun read, what with Bakugou finally getting to meet Hidan :D 
> 
> Please let me know what you think! As always, I adore all your comments and reactions and I do my best to reply to all you amazing people!  
Stay safe, stay healthy <3


	8. i survived the hunger games and all i got was this t-shirt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hidan is getting tired of these shenanigans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for Hidan and Bakugou’s language, references to Todoroki’s abuse from Endeavor in canon, and even more outsider speculation on the nature of Izuku and Hidan’s relationship.  
EDIT 4/5/2021: THIS CHAPTER HAS CHANGED. I've edited the contents of this chapter to be consistent with the plot of next chapter, and as such events unfold slightly differently now. Long story short, keep good track of your drafts & notes, kids.  
(you can see the long version of the story next chapter, if that's something you're into)

The moment they stepped into the meager light of the hallway, Katsuki recognized the mysterious man as the Villain from the USJ Incident, whom Izuku had called ‘Hidan-nii.’ _ Nii _ as in _ nii-san. _

“Deku, _ explain _.” Katsuki growled, lurching forward toward the green-haired teen despite the hand holding him by the arm. “How do you know this shitface Villain? Why is he here?!”

Deku laughed nervously. “Kacchan, I can explain!”

“This is a waste of fucking time,” the Villain named Hidan said from behind Katsuki. “Why don’t we just kill this little fucking heathen already?”

“You think you can kill me?!” Katsuki immediately yelled, thrashing in the man’s frustratingly-strong grip. “I’ll fucking kill _ you _, assturd!”

“Ha! I’d like to see you try, bitch!”

“No!” Deku yelped, “nobody’s killing anybody here!” He wrestled his way between Katsuki and Hidan. “Kacchan, please, Hidan-nii’s a good guy. He’s not here to hurt anybody!”

Kastuki seethed. “That’s not what he was fucking doing at USJ, Deku, or have you forgotten?”

“Like I said, I can explain, if you would please just calm down and listen, Kacchan! Hidan-nii, you can let go of him.” 

“Pretty sure that’s a shitty idea, nerdface,” Hidan said skeptically, but obediently released Katsuki’s arm at another look from Deku.

He wrenched his arm away from the Villain, hastily stepping away from the gray-haired man. “Start talking, Deku.”

“Okay, okay,” Deku said, taking a deep breath. “Alright. Kacchan, this is Hidan-nii. He’s been taking care of me since I was nine years old, after… after Ka-san died.” Katsuki stilled. “He’s protected me, raised me, and trained me for almost six years, now.”

“Then why is he a Villain?!” Katsuki snarled. 

“He’s not actually a bad guy!” Deku protested. “We—I know we’ve had to do some… questionable things to survive, sometimes. But I trust Hidan-nii with my life, Kacchan. I wouldn’t be who I am today without him.”

An unpleasant realization began to dawn on Katsuki. “...Deku,” he said slowly, “when you say he raised you—is this the serial killer the news used to talk about all the time? The one that killed your mom?”

“No!” Deku said immediately. “Hidan-nii didn’t… he helped her! She was already dying and he gave her peace! And he’s taken care of me ever since.”

His body felt numb. “He murdered your mom and kidnapped you.”

“He saved me!” Deku said. “Hidan-nii killed the Villains that were trying to hurt me and Ka-san.”

“He should’ve called the police!” Katsuki said.

For the first time in the conversation, Hidan spoke. “And then what should I have done, shithead? Sit and watch some robbers literally beat a woman and her child to death?” He scoffed and crossed his arms, violet eyes staring Katsuki down. “She was already past the point of no return when I got there. Those heathens were willing to murder a defenseless civilian; they would’ve started on Izuku next. Did you want me to let them fucking kill him, too? Your childhood friend?”

“I—” Katsuki cut himself off. “But you’re still a murderer,” he said, glancing away from Deku.

“So?” Hidan drawled. “I just get shit done, bitch.”

“I should report your ass to the teachers. You’re trespassing on a school event and you’re a fucking wanted criminal.”

Deku jumped. “No, you can’t!” He cried. “Hidan-nii isn’t here to hurt anybody.”

“Why the fuck is he here, then?” Katsuki said.

“I’m just keeping an eye on the nerd,” Hidan said, jerking a thumb at the green-haired teen in question. “Gotta make sure he doesn’t get hurt.”

“That’s not your fucking job,” Katsuki sneered. 

“Oh?” Hidan said. “It’s certainly not your precious U.A.’s job, at least, based on the piss-poor performance I’ve seen so far.”

Deku grabbed Katsuki’s wrist. “Please, Kacchan,” he said, green eyes wide and pleading. “Please keep this a secret. Like I said, I trust Hidan-nii completely. And now I’m asking you to trust me.”

He felt a shudder run down his spine, and Katsuki fought to choke down the instinctual rage rising in him. 

As much as he didn’t want to admit it, it would probably be a bad idea to raise the alarm over Hidan’s presence. If the Villain had gotten into the stadium without being noticed, chances were he could get out just as easily, and Deku would definitely cover for him. Plus, another Villain incident at a U.A.-sponsored event, even if it turned out harmless, would only cause further paranoia and hysteria among the general public. 

However, he also didn’t trust Deku—at least, not where this Hidan fucker was concerned. His emotions clouded his judgement regarding the person he viewed as an adoptive brother, and Katsuki probably couldn’t even beat any sense into Deku at this point. His former childhood friend was too far in over his head to understand what was happening to him.

It was a lose-lose situation, and Katsuki _ hated _to lose. But what other choice did he have?

“Fine,” he eventually gritted out, clenching his fists, “but this isn’t over, Deku.”

Deku’s face instantly broke out into a smile, and he flung his arms around Katsuki. “Thank you, Kacchan!” Over the shorter teen’s shoulder, Katsuki leveled a glare at Hidan. It was returned in equal measure.

  
  
  


— — — — — 

  
  


Shouto was on his way to prepare for his first match in the tournament when he ran into trouble.

“Shouto,” his father’s voice rumbled from behind him. “I’ve been searching for you.”

Shouto’s heart stuttered in his chest, and his shoulders stiffened automatically. He picked up his pace in an attempt to avoid him, but Endeavor wouldn’t be dissuaded. 

“I’ve been disappointed in your behavior during this Sports Festival,” Endeavour continued. “You are holding yourself back from your true potential.”

Shouto grit his teeth, stopping in his tracks.

“You need to use the full extent of your power. Use the fire I gave you, Shouto. Stop your childish games.”

“...No,” Shouto finally spoke, after a long pause. 

Endeavor frowned. “What was that, Shouto?”

He tilted his chin up to look at Endeavor properly. “I said no,” he repeated. “I told you, I don’t need your power. I will win this tournament with only my ice.” 

He mentally braced himself for his father’s response.

“Shouto, you _ know— _” 

“Uh, do ya fucking mind?” A new, unfamiliar voice cut in. “You’re sort of in my way here.”

Startled, Shouto glanced over his shoulder. The stranger’s voice belonged to a gray haired man with striking violet eyes, who was scowling angrily at Endeavour as he approached from the shadows of the tunnel. The bizarre three-pronged scythe he carried seemed oddly familiar. 

“Who are you?” Endeavor asked. 

“None of your business, heathen,” the man sneered. 

Endeavor frowned at him. “Then begone,” he said. “I have business with my son.”

“Okay,” the man said, drawing the vowels out mockingly, “I really would love to leave, except, like I said, _ you’re in my fucking way _.”

“How dare you speak to me in such a manner!” Endeavor roared, flames flaring. Shouto’s stomach dropped. “Do you even know who I am—” 

“Absolutely not,” the man yawned.

“You _ dare _to disrespect Japan’s Number Two Hero—”

The (clearly suicidal) man barked out a laugh. “Number _ two _? Oh, so you’re just the first loser-ass Hero on the podium, then. Real fucking proud of it too, huh?”

“_ Shut your mouth! _” Endeavor roared, hands clenched into fists. “I have fought every day of my life for the recognition I deserve.” Shouto could feel the raw intensity of the flame rolling off of Endeavor from where he was standing. “I have always been in the shadow of All Might. Now my son will finally be ready to reveal his power, and to take the position of the Number One Hero. I have suffered for so long, worked so hard—”

Something dark and violent abruptly crossed the gray-haired man’s face. “Suffering?” He said, tone cool and low. “You want to talk to me about suffering?”

Tension crackled thickly in the air, and Shouto shied away, instincts screaming at him in a way he hadn’t felt since the USJ Incident. The strange man continued to speak, slowly advancing toward Endeavor. 

“You don’t know _ true _ suffering, you motherfucking heathen. You think being number twoinstead of number one entitles you to bitch and moan about how shitty things are for you? You inflict suffering on the people around you so you can hide from how empty and pitiful your own life is. You haven’t grown strong or learned anything from your past. You’ve just become old and bitter instead. Your own _ son _has suffered better than you.” 

The man’s eyes blazed, scythe clutched tightly at his side. “You think you’re the No. 2 Hero? Newsflash, fucker. You’re nothing_ . _You’re irrelevant. You will die, having accomplished nothing with your suffering, and Jashin-sama won’t even see fit to grace you with eternal damnation. That’s how insignificant you are to this world.”

The temperature of the hallway dropped, and fear crept up Shouto’s spine. The gray-haired man was _ dangerous _ , _ dangerous _ , and he was close enough to touch Shouto’s father, and Shouto was suddenly certain that _ he was going to kill him _— 

“This is the last time I’ll ask you nicely,” the man said. “Get the fuck out of my way.”

Endeavour got out of the man’s way. 

Everything seemed to snap back into reality in an instant. Shouto felt like he’d awoken from a trance, looking down at his hands incredulously. _ What just happened? _

The gray-haired man spoke so angrily about suffering. So passionately. Almost like… 

Shouto gasped, turning and sprinting after the man. He barely noticed as he brushed past his father, and Endeavor if Endeavour made any sound, he didn’t hear it. 

“Wait!” Shouto called, “can I talk to you?”

The man paused. “What the shit do _ you _want?” He said, annoyance in his tone. Strangely, Shouto couldn’t feel the same chilling fear as he had during the confrontation with Endeavor.

“I just have a question,” Shouto said, panting. “Are—are you the father of Midoriya Izuku?” 

“..._ what the fuck? _” 

“You and Midoriya speak about suffering in the same way,” he said. “The two of you must be related for that sort of similarity, right?”

“Jashin, no!” The man said, seemingly caught between amusement and horror. “Shit, Izuku as my kid? No fucking way.” He let out a dramatic shudder.

Shouto noted the man’s use of Midoriya’s first name. “So you _ do _know each other, then,” he pressed. This man was important, he could tell. Something was pressing at the back of Shouto’s mind.

“Yeah, yeah, I know the nerd,” the man said. “What’s it to ya, anyway?” He twirled his scythe absently, and the blades caught the dim light of the hallway, the edges wicked sharp. The image stuck in Shouto’s mind oddly, but he ignored it. 

He wasn’t sure what to make of this man, who espoused such a strange yet comforting ideology while having the guts to threaten the No. 2 Hero like it was nothing. Shouto didn’t even know him, yet the man was willing to defend Shouto’s own pain to Endeavor without a second thought. If Midoriya was connected to him, then it was no wonder his classmate had turned out the way he did…

Shouto had a lot to think about. 

“Well, if there’s nothing else, I’m fucking leaving.” The man said with a grin, teeth flashing as he turned and left.

  
  


— — — — — 

All Might cornered Izuku right before his match with Todoroki. 

“My boy,” the Hero rumbled. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m looking forward to fighting Todoroki!” Izuku said. “I’ve been theorizing about One For All some more since the last time I had to use it at USJ, and I think I can manage a few hits without breaking any bones now!”

“It is true that you are much further along in controlling One For All,” All Might said, settling himself down into the comically-tiny plastic chair next to Izuku. “But please do not grow overconfident. I have seen what you are willing to do to your own body, after all.”

“Of course!” Izuku said. “Lately, I’ve been trying to circulate it more through my body to keep it from overloading just one part of my body. I think it’s worked pretty well, since I can use more and more of it without breaking anything. Oh, and I’ve noticed that it can help increase my speed and reactions sometimes, too!”

“I’m very glad to hear that.” All Might said. “Although I would not grow complacent. By my estimates, you are probably approaching seven to eight percent usage of One For All. You’ve already made it far into this competition—you have already more than declared yourself to the world today. I’m proud of you, Young Midoriya.” 

“...” Izuku paused, scratching an itch in his eye. “...I’m glad you feel that way, All Might. I won’t let you down!” 

All Might reached out, ruffling his hair. “I know you won’t, Midoriya.”

  
  
  


— — — — — 

Katsuki found his teacher outside of the announcer’s booth. He stopped in front of the door, staring intently at Aizawa as he slouched against the hallway wall.

Aizawa raised an eyebrow. "Do you need something, Bakugo? The tournament portion is about to begin, shouldn't you be preparing for it?"

"..." Katsuki ground his teeth, searching for the right words. "I..."

Squinting, Aizawa suddenly straightened his back. "Is everything alright?"

"I met someone just now. Gray hair, creepy-ass violet eyes. He... he and shitty Deku..."

Aizawa stared intently at him. “Can you tell me more, Bakugo?”

He slammed his fist into the wall. “It was that fucking Villain,” Katsuki said, “from the USJ incident. Deku called him _ Hidan-nii _ . His nii-san. He was raised by a Villain!” Anger rose suddenly in his chest as he recounted the conversation he’d had. “Aren’t you a Pro-Hero? How could you let this happen? Deku’s mom was killed by him and you _ let him raise Deku _. You’re still letting him live with Deku! Why won’t you do anything?!” His voice cracked on a shout.

“Bakugou, please calm down,” Aizawa said, tone commanding. “I understand that you’re angry and concerned for Midoriya—”

“I’m not concerned for him,” Katsuki immediately said. 

“Whatever your feelings are, you have every right to feel that way,” Aizawa sighed. “As I’ve told you before, this is an exceedingly strange and sensitive case. Ordinarily, we would never leave a child like Midoriya in such a situation—”

“Then get him out already!” Katsuki snarled. 

“—but we have good reason to believe that this Hidan character does not mean him any harm,” Aizawa said.

“He’s a serial killer! He’s a Villain, and Deku has fucking—Stockholm Syndrome or some shit! You can’t possibly think letting him run around freely is a good idea.”

“Actually, it may not be the worst idea,” Aizawa admitted heavily. “While it’s true that this man, Hidan, has committed many heinous murders, Detective Naomasa has informed me that his patterns fit that of a Vigilante rather than a Villain. My observations have only supported this theory. He genuinely seems to care about Midoriya’s wellbeing and safety to an extent—Hidan was helping us during the USJ incident, actually, instead of the League of Villains.”

Katsuki narrowed his eyes in disbelief. “What?”

Aizawa nodded. “He targeted his own comrades rather than any students, and he intervened at a crucial moment during my battle against Shigaraki, allowing me to escape what would have been a serious, potentially crippling, injury.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because the police and I have a plan,” Aizawa stated, straightening to his full height to look Katsuki in the eye. “Bakugou, I have something to ask of you. You are under no pressure to agree, and you will not suffer any consequences for saying ‘no.’ I want that to be perfectly clear before I tell you more about the situation at hand.”

“Just spit it out already,” Katsuki growled.

“Bakugou, I’m asking you to spy on Midoriya and Hidan for us,” Aizawa said.

Katsuki didn’t hesitate for even a second before giving his answer. 

“Fuck yes.”

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hidan to Endeavor: had it not been for the laws of this land, I would have slaughtered you
> 
> Sorry to skip Izuku and Endeavor’s encounter, but I felt like it was a bit repetitive of Hidan’s encounter + Endeavor definitely would have just run away after experiencing Hidan’s Killing Intent. I’m also a bit sad I didn’t get to write as much ridiculous humor in this chapter, but I just couldn’t think of a way to fit it in without detracting from some necessary discussions about serious subject matters. We will (probably) return to our regularly-scheduled crack humor next chapter!
> 
> Also, don't worry, I haven’t forgotten the ‘past users of OFA’ thing. However, it didn’t really fit the Sports Festival anymore since I switched so many things around from canon; a fight between Shinsou and Izuku wouldn’t really advance the story anymore either since they’re already friends. The past users of OFA plot point shall return… eventually
> 
> Thank you all for your comments and kudos! Seeing AO3 notifications for this fic genuinely makes me so happy every single time :D


	9. it’s the final breakdown *sad kazoo noises*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The thrilling conclusion to the epic highs and lows of high school football

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for Hidan and Bakugo’s language, canon-typical violence.
> 
> EDIT 4/5/2021: THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER (Chapter 8) HAS BEEN UPATED TO REFLECT THE PLOT OF THIS CHAPTER. If you haven't read this fic since before that date, please go back and start from the previous chapter so you won't be confused! Long story short, there was a huge plot error with the tournament, and I have since fixed this issue. Thank you to those that pointed out this error! I'm so sorry for the confusion, and I hope this new version makes more sense.   
(If you want the long version of events, see end notes)

Izuku and Todoroki’s match started off with a bang—or rather, it started off with the opposite of a bang. The arena cooled rapidly as Todoroki summoned a massive ice mound, similar to his match against Sero, earlier in the tournament, clearly hoping to freeze Izuku in place and earn a quick victory. 

Naturally, Izuku had a counter-strategy ready. He hopped nimbly through the growing icefields, feet moving too quickly for the ice to freeze onto him. Izuku closed in on Todoroki despite the distance his classmate had gained in his initial burst of energy.

“Come on, Todoroki-san!” Izuku called out. “Let’s have a proper showdown, face-to-face!”

But each time Izuku neared Todoroki, the other boy would simply summon another wall of ice, and their game of cat-and-mouse would begin anew. 

_ It’s almost like when Hidan-nii and I spar, _ Izuku thought to himself, amused. _ I run for my life and Hidan-nii chases me around like a maniac. Except this time, _ I’m _ the one doing the chasing. _

After a few minutes of this, however, Izuku could hear the audience growing bored of their match. He could hear Mic-sensei’s color commentary struggling to remain engaged, with occasional, monotone interjections from Aizawa-sensei.

“_ —what could Todoroki’s strategy be here?! What a strange match!” _

_ “...he’s trying to freeze Midoriya from a distance. Anyone with eyes could tell as much.” _

Well, time to get the show on the road. Izuku paused, seemingly for breath, before calling out to Todoroki. “Ne, ne, Todoroki-san, why aren’t you using your fire? The fight is getting a bit boring with just your ice.”

“...I thought I told you earlier,” Todoroki said, a scowl forming on his face. “It’s _ that man’s _power. I will win the Sports Festival without his help. Do I need to repeat myself again?” Agitated, the other boy stopped his ice momentarily—which was when Izuku struck.

Heart in his throat and sending fervent prayers to Jashin-sama above, Izuku channeled the tiniest bit of One For All into his legs, circulating the energy as best he could based on Hidan-nii’s description of _ chakra _. With a yell, he leapt high into the air, bringing himself face-to-face with Todoroki and lashing out with his fist.

He hit home with a solid _ thud _. Todoroki stumbled back, a look of blank shock across his face.

Izuku couldn’t help but let a fierce grin spread across his face. His leg hadn’t broken from using One For All. 

“Fight me with everything you’ve got, Todoroki-san!” He yelled.

“How many times do I have to tell you?! No!” 

Izuku pressed his advantage, jabbing with another punch as Todoroki scrambled on the defense.

“But you’ve suffered so well for your power!” Izuku protested, launching himself to the side to avoid an ice spike. “Your pain and anger toward your fire only enhances the beauty of your left side.”

“Shut up!” Todoroki snarled, face crumbled. “Just shut up!” He raised his hand, but Izuku rushed forward and slammed his foot into his classmate before Todoroki could throw out another ice attack.

“No! I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. Your suffering is your own—your power is your own!” Izuku blocked a punch to his head, countering with a downward kick aimed to sweep Todoroki’s leg out from under him. “You can choose to wallow in misery forever, or you can choose to take control of your suffering and _ do something _with it.”

Todoroki flipped away, riding an ice shelf until he was several meters away from Izuku. He glared warily, awaiting Izuku’s next attack. 

Izuku clambered over the ice blocking his way, huffing slightly in exertion. Thank Jashin that Hidan-nii hit considerably harder and faster than Todoroki did, or else Izuku would be in much worse shape—he needed to save as much energy as he could for the sheer amount of concentration necessary to circulate One For All properly. 

“Look, Todoroki-san,” Izuku said, once he was within earshot of the other boy, “I can’t make this decision for you. Nobody can. I understand if you’re not ready for it. It’s a difficult position for anybody to be in.”

Todoroki scowled. “I don’t want your pity,” he said, gathering ice in his hand.

“And I’m not pitying you,” Izuku said calmly. “What I want to say is, everyone has some sort of inner suffering they must overcome. Us and our classmates are no exception. Do you really think Shinsou-san hasn’t endured all sorts of pain, with a Quirk like his? Up until recently, I would break my bones every time I tried to use my Quirk. Even Uraraka-san has experienced her own unique pain in her life. 

“The difference I’m getting at here is that we’ve all put in our fair share of work to embrace our suffering. We train, we meditate, we acknowledge our shortcomings and pain, rather than avoid them. And in doing so, we can overcome the weaknesses that hold us back, and become stronger, better people.”

He spread his hands wide. “You’re strong, but you’re holding yourself back. It’s alright if you can’t accept your left side yet; everyone has their own relationship with their suffering.” Izuku smiled at Todoroki, taking a deep breath.

“But in the meantime, the rest of us are moving ahead with our Hero journey. Don’t expect us to be waiting for you, Todoroki-san.”

With that, Izuku slammed his foot into a block of ice beside him, channeling One For All. The ice exploded into a kaleidoscope of sharp pinpoints toward Todoroki, too thick in the air for the other boy to get out of the way easily. 

Todoroki stumbled backward, seeking to distance himself from Izuku’s hail-storm, but found himself penned in by the mountains of ice he had created earlier in the match. Unable to escape, Todoroki could only brace his arms in front of his face, shielding himself as best he could from his own ice. 

Izuku sprang forward—or, he tried to spring forward, but the leg that he’d used to break the ice with One For All gave a dangerous groan beneath him. _ That didn’t sound good. _ Maybe he’d used One For All in that leg one too many times. 

Instead, Izuku stretched his right hand in front of him, bracing his arm with his left, One For All flowing down into his middle finger. His vision tunneled with the intensity of his focus, a steady roar growing in his ears and drowning out the now-wild cheering from the crowd. 

He breathed in, then out. And he flicked his finger as hard as he could.

The resulting sonic boom blasted through the arena. Ice shards flew as the frosty mountains around them shattered, finely misting the air as ear-splitting cracks worthy of the greatest icebergs echoed through the ice. Izuku lost sight of Todoroki as the world around them crumbled, and he spared a quick prayer to Jashin-sama that his classmate would not be too grievously injured.

After what seemed to be an eternity, the shaking came to a stop. A hush spread over the audience as it strained to search out the two teenage boys amidst the massive debris. 

“_ Aaaaaand Midoriya has surfaced!” _ Present Mic’s voice echoed in the silence. _ “Will the fight continue? Is Todoroki still standing? Let’s hope he comes up soon too!” _

Across from Izuku, a mound of ice shards shivered, before parting to reveal Todoroki pulling himself up, looking scratched and rattled, but with all his limbs attached and functioning. Izuku breathed a sigh of relief. 

_ “Todoroki is still kicking!” _ Present Mic cheered. _ “The fight continues! What will we see next from these two powerhouses?!” _

Todoroki gazed at Izuku, expression unreadable. A beat passed. Then Todoroki raised his hand, looking up. 

“I forfeit.”

The crowd erupted. 

As Present Mic struggled to calm the frenzied spectators and comprehend what Todoroki had said himself, Izuku stared wide-eyed as his classmate approached him.

“Why, Todoroki-san?” He called, over the noise. His ears were still ringing from the blast, and he half-heard, half-lip-read Todoroki’s response.

“It was the split-second after you shattered my ice,” Todoroki finally said, “when I realized what you’d done. That you’d out-maneuvered me. At that moment, everything you said to me suddenly came together.

“What you said about my suffering, about my power… you’re right. I haven’t accepted everything I’ve been through, and as such I have not reached my full potential. I forfeited because I realized that I do not deserve to be here, fighting you, and our classmates. I need to catch up to you all.”

Todoroki stretched his hand out. “Thank you for this fight, Midoriya.”

Eyes bright, Izuku clasped Todoroki’s hand, and pulled him into a tight hug. 

  
  


— — — — — 

  
  
  


** _A week earlier (give or take a few days; Hidan found that keeping track of time, outside of mission purposes, was an entirely pointless activity)._ **

Hidan half-groaned, half-sighed as he sank into a stool at the bar in the League of Villain’s hideout. 

“Hey, bitch, hit me with the good stuff,” he said, snapping at Kurogiri. The formless man slid a glass of something clear and strong to him. 

“Hidan-san?” Cloud Fucker said. “What brings you here today?”

Hidan downed the glass in one gulp. “I dunno, do I need a fucking reason?” He burped, loudly. 

“I suppose not,” Cloud Fucker said. “My apologies, I was merely curious.” 

“Yeah, you better fuckin’ be sorry,” Hidan muttered. Cloud Fucker passed him another drink.

A few minutes passed in silence, Hidan sipping moodily from his glass and Kurogiri wiping out an assortment of cups. 

Finally, Hidan sighed again, draining the last of his second drink. “So, any jobs coming up for the League? I’m getting bored and we haven’t done anything in fuckin’ ages. What’s that bitch-ass Shigaraki thinking?”

Kurogiri paused. “Well, I suppose there’s no harm in telling you. We’re considering making our next moves at the upcoming U.A. Sports Festival. I’m sure you know of it.”

_ Shit. _Hidan cursed internally, scrambling for something to say next.

That was exactly what Izuku didn’t want. But what could he do about it? This strategizing crap was the shitty nerd’s schtick, not Hidan’s. It wasn’t like Izuku could just go waltzing into the League of Villain’s fucking bar and talk them out of attacking the Sports Festival, though. 

Maybe he could just kill everyone in the League and be done with their heathen asses—but, wait, Mr. Hand Fetishist wasn’t even present at the bar. Even if he took out Cloud Fucker, his right-hand (haha, get it) man, Shigaraki could launch an attack without him. 

Cancelling the Sports Festival was a no-go. There was no way Izuku could convince his shitty teachers to call off the entire thing without raising some awkward questions. That left Hidan with only one option. He had to talk them out of it. _ FUCK. _

“Er…” Hidan coughed. “Um… are you sure that’s a good idea, or some shit?” All of a sudden, the alcohol burned in his throat. 

Kurogiri looked at him. “What do you mean, Hidan-san?”

“U-uh… it’s like, the whole damn thing is completely televised, right?”

“Yes, it is.”

Hidan scratched his cheek. “I mean, that would just be bad fucking publicity for us, right?” 

“How so? We _ are _a Villain group, after all,” Kurogiri said. 

Hidan grunted, clearing his throat. “Like, we don’t want everyone to _ watch _us kill a whole bunch of heathen-ass children. It would totally ruin our image.”

“Again, I fail to see how this would be damaging to us.” Kurogiri set his glass down. 

“No, no,” Hidan said, beginning to warm up to the plot point he’d accidentally set his foot in, “I mean, yes, we’re a fucking Villain group, our whole purpose is to be all doom and gloom and evil ‘n stuff. But doesn’t Shigaraki have that whole spiel about how shitty Heroes are?”

Kurogiri was now watching him intently. “Yes, he does. Our greater purpose is to show how flawed our Hero-centric society is, and to give rise to the people it has suppressed.”

“Yeah, yeah, that shit. Well, in order to do that, we need some of those fucking heathens on our side, right?” Hidan said. “There’s definitely people out there that feel like the Hero system has taken a big fat shit on them. They only need a little bit of convincing to side with us. But they’re also not hardcore enough to be ride-or-die with offing kids on live TV. You get what I’m saying?”

“...Go on.”

Okay, so what if Hidan was now wholesale ripping off Akatsuki's messaging? Not like there was anybody to call him on it. Hidan grinned toothily. 

“We gotta get out there and present ourselves as the solution to those people’s shitty lives. Show them there’s a group that cares about them or whatever, give them a purpose to their heathen lives. We can’t do that at the Sports Festival, where there are a billion shitty Heroes ready to stop us and the Hero media can twist the story however they like afterward. Let them tire themselves out worrying about the festival while we start planning our next big statement already.”

Kurogiri hummed noncommittally, but Hidan knew he had the fucker hooked. Thank Jashin that Hidan had paid the barest amount of attention to Pein’s propaganda machine in Amegakure. It was the same damn story—a faction of heathen bitches under Hanzo’s rule felt unhappy, Pein came along and helped them overthrow their violent dictator, and then lived out their lives in complacency under Pein’s brand new dictatorship. All Hidan had to do was replace a few names here and there, and he was fucking golden.

“Well, that’s just what I think,” Hidan shrugged as casually as he could. “I’m not the fucking leader here or anything, though.”

“...No, no,” Kurogiri said. “You make some excellent points. I will be sure to bring them up next time I meet with Shigaraki. Thank you for your input, Hidan-san.”

Hidan grinned. Hook, line, and sinker. He was fucking awesome at this shit.

(If anyone had pointed out to Hidan how horrible he typically was at having to talk his way out of anything, Hidan would vehemently deny that accusation, and then violently murder the person doing the accusing. He was just more of a kill now, talk never sort of shinobi, okay?)

  
  


— — — — — 

  
  


Shouta rubbed his eyes tiredly. He _ knew _he shouldn’t have been so hasty to ask Bakugo to act as an informant on the situation with Midoriya. But how was he supposed to know that the two would end up facing each other in the final match of the tournament? Bakugo wasn’t an idiot, he wouldn’t blow the Heroes’ cover on live television—but he would definitely try something. 

An explosion shook the arena below, Hizashi’s excited commentary never flagging despite the full day’s worth of screaming the man had already done. 

“And Midoriya successfully dodges yet another barrage from Bakugou! What could his offensive plan be?!”

The two broke apart briefly from the melee. Through the high-tech speakers, Shouta could hear every word that passed between his students, albeit shrouded in static and rather tinny-sounding. It seemed Bakugou was trying to engage Midoriya in conversation for the first time. 

“_Is that all you got, Deku?!” _ The blond yelled. “ _ Who taught you to run like a pussy?!” _

Shouta nearly planted his head into his desk at Bakugou’s lack of tact. 

Midoriya frowned. “_ SORRY, KACCHAN, _ ” he called back. His voice was oddly loud and monotone. “ _ I CAN’T HEAR WHAT YOU’RE SAYING, RIGHT NOW.” _ He scratched his cheek, grinning awkwardly. _ “I THINK I BLEW OUT MY HEARING FROM MY MATCH WITH TODOROKI-SAN. RECOVERY GIRL FIXED MY KNEE AFTERWARD, BUT I GUESS SHE MISSED MY EARS.” _

“_What? That’s bullshit!” _ Bakugo said. “ _ I don’t believe you!” _

“_IF YOU COULD JUST SPEAK A LITTLE SLOWER AND MORE CLEARLY, I COULD TRY TO LIP-READ,” _ Midoriya said. “ _ I DON’T SUPPOSE YOU KNOW ANY JAPANESE SIGN-LANGUAGE?” _

“It seems that Bakugo is trying to distract Midoriya through talking!” Hizashi said. “Not a strategy I’d expect from him!”

Shouta sighed. “Don’t think it’s working, at any rate,” he muttered into his microphone, “Midoriya is either purposely taunting him, or he’s actually temporarily deaf. Either way, Bakugo should try a new tactic.”

“_IF THERE’S SOMETHING YOU’RE TRYING TO ASK ME, KACCHAN, MAYBE WRITE IT DOWN.” _

“_Fuck you! I’ll blow your face off!” _

More explosions. Midoriya’s evasion tactics were commendable, at least. In his fight against both Todoroki and Bakugo, he’d been able to dodge the worst of the brute-force Quirks aimed at him, which bought the green-haired boy time to launch a counter-offense while his opponent tired himself out. Shouta was sensing a pattern, here… 

Bakugo let off another series of blasts, rubble shooting through the air. Even with his skills, Midoriya was unable to avoid all the rocks flying at him, and he was forced to raise his arms in defense, grunting with exertion.

“S_how me your Quirk, already!” _ Bakugo screamed. “ _ You think you’re too good to fight me head-on, Deku?!” _

_ “HANG ON,” _ Midoriya said. He scrubbed his palms against his ears. “ _ NOPE, STILL CAN’T HEAR YOU. WOULD A SPEECH-TO-TEXT TRANSLATOR WORK BETTER FOR YOU?” _

“_You’re so fucking annoying! Did your bitch-ass ‘brother’ teach you to be such a shit?!” _

“_OH! PERHAPS YOU CAN’T HEAR ME, EITHER, KACCHAN! THAT WOULD EXPLAIN WHY YOU AREN’T RESPONDING TO MY QUESTIONS!” _

Midoriya launched himself away from an angry swipe, except he stumbled and lost his footing as he fell into one of the many craters Bakugo had created from his explosions. 

_ “Ha! There’s nowhere left to dodge, shitty Deku! I’ve filled the arena with craters, so you can finally stop running away from me!” _Bakugo jeered.

“_IT SEEMS YOU’VE FILLED THE ARENA WITH CRATERS. PRETTY CLEVER!” _

“_Shut up! I just said that!” _

With a jump that was clearly Quirk-enhanced, Midoriya spun with a wild kick at Bakugo’s head. The blond raised an arm; Midoriya used his momentum to rebound against Bakugo’s block and brought his clasped fists down on Bakugo’s gauntlet, breaking his gear cleanly in half.

Hizashi cheered. “Midoriya’s got the upper hand, now!”

Screaming in wordless rage, Bakugou brought his other gauntlet around, firing an explosion at Midoriya. The green-haired boy was forced to back away, his uniform sleeve catching on fire from the proximity. He hurriedly patted out the fire with his bare hand. 

Shouta _ really _needed to teach the child some self-preservation.

“_What’s wrong with you?!” _ Bakugo screeched. “ _ You’re gonna burn to a crisp before I can even fight you properly!” _

_ “DON’T WORRY, KACCHAN!” _ Midoriya responded cheerfully _ . “‘TIS BUT A SCRATCH!” _

Yes, Shouta was already writing his next lesson plan in his head. 

From then on, Midoriya began maneuvering into Bakugo’s weak side, forcing the blond to work overtime to keep up his blasts with only one gauntlet. It should have been a quick victory at that point, but it became clear that Midoriya did not have the Quirk stamina to launch more sustained attacks against Bakugo. 

“It’s going to be a close one, folks! Don’t let your eyes leave the action!” Hizashi said excitedly.

As Shouta saw it, Midoriya had two courses of action. He could build up another Quirk-enhanced attack and aim to take out Bakugo’s remaining gear, although it would be more difficult as the blond was already on guard after Midoriya’s first move. Or, Midoriya could try and take out Bakugou directly through his weak side, if he could move fast enough and dodge Bakugo’s blasts at such close range. 

Either way, Midoriya would have to make his move soon, or else he would tire out. The sloppier he got, the higher the likelihood that Bakugo would catch him with his attacks. 

Lo and behold, Midoriya stopped suddenly, muscles bunching as his eyes narrowed in concentration. Despite himself, Shouta leaned forward, anticipating Midoriya’s next move. 

If he hadn’t been watching each students’ actions so intently, Shouta would have missed what happened next. Midoriya’s stance was wide, right hand braced out in front of him, reminiscent of the same move he’d used in his match against Todoroki, finger ready to flick outward. At the same time, Bakugo had flipped mid-air to aim his last gauntlet at Midoriya, the glow of fire already erupting out of his hand. 

Hizashi, seeing the same thing, was already talking. “It appears the two have lined up their moved in sync—”

But he never got to finish. Bakugo and Midoriya released their respective explosions at one another at the same time. 

The resulting forcefield flattened debris across the arena, a stark contrast against the plume of ice that had rolled through the stadium during Midoriya’s fight against Todoroki earlier. 

When the dust lifted, Shouta could hardly believe his eyes. Beside him, Hizashi stuttered. “Has—has anything like this ever happened before? Listeners, you may be witnessing U.A. history right before your very eyes!”

What he saw was two figures on opposite sides of the arena, both struggling to pull themselves up. Each was distinctly outside of the white box of the arena, having been flung out-of-bounds by the combined force of Midoriya’s sonic boom and Bakugo’s massive explosion. 

Why, oh why, did Shouta always get the problem children?

Midnight raised her whip, and declared the final result of the U.A. Sports Festival Tournament. 

“It’s a tie!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> canon!izuku, with literally all his limbs broken and flapping in the wind: ‘tis but a scratch!!!!
> 
> THE SAD & LONG VERSION OF THE PLOT MIXUP:   
Basically, I marked the wrong version of my drafts as the final upload after I finished writing chapter 8, and just never thought to double check what I actually ended up posting before starting on chapter 9. Somehow, I managed to forget writing the ending to the tournament arc before (actually, not that surprising since it's been awhile since I updated this fic XD), and wrote a whole new fight sequence. Tbh, i thought that this new version in ch9 was funnier and more satisfying, so I ended up performing some emergency surgery on ch8 and cutting out the previous showdowns between Todoroki & Izuku & Bakugo, and keeping the ones I wrote for this chapter. Once again, so sorry for the mixup! I will be much more vigilant about keeping track of my drafts in the future!
> 
> Hahahaha lets pretend i updated this chapter in a timely manner *throws chapter at you and runs* IM SORRYYYY
> 
> But in all seriousness, thank you all so much for continuing to read and support this fic. Every single one of your kudos and comments is appreciated! I do my best to reply to comments, but if I missed one, just know that every single one is appreciated and I love you all very much! I hope you enjoy this long-overdue chapter!


	10. interlude: asui tsuyu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some things from Tsuyu's perspective

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for mild discussion of pain and suffering, a la Jashin style.

Tsuyu knew she lived a good life. 

It was by no means a perfect life. Her parents didn’t spend much time with their children, constantly travelling for work, forcing Tsuyu to take on raising her siblings at a young age. All through elementary and middle school, she struggled to make friends, whether it be due to her frog-like appearance, or because of her blunt personality. Her Quirk was not particularly strong, and turned her body into a strange amalgamation of human and amphibious qualities; she had to work hard to turn them into Hero-worthy abilities. 

That was okay, though. She would never begrudge her parents for their dedication to supporting her and her siblings; she was never harshly bullied for her Quirk, even if she was somewhat isolated from her peers. Tsuyu’s Quirk was strange, but not impossible to work with, once she gained an understanding and appreciation for her body.

She even made a friend, eventually. One that she would always cherish, even if they ended up going to different high schools. 

Now, Tsuyu was a student at the most prestigious Hero-training academy in the country; she was learning from the best of the best, training alongside the next generation of Japan’s elite Heroes, the people’s greatest protectors. She might never be the strongest Hero, but she knew she could work hard and make a name for herself. Never perfect, but always good enough.

Yes, Tsuyu was very content with her good-enough life. 

  
  
  


The first person Tsuyu became friends with at U.A. was a green-haired boy named Midoriya Izuku. She supposed most would find their first exchange rather unconventional—as opponents in All Might’s Battle Trial, she knew that one person’s success meant the other’s failure. But when she found herself caught up in one of Izuku’s ingenious traps, she couldn’t help but be impressed, instead. He must be an incredibly skilled craftsman. Even better, he seemed to genuinely want to be friends with her, too.

Was he a bit strange? Sure, but who was Tsuyu to judge? If anything, Tsuyu appreciated the things Izuku talked about, and his unique perspective was one she could definitely learn from. Pain and suffering… they were realities in life that were often glossed over by their Hero-crazed media, sugarcoated and prettied-up in their Hero classes so that nobody would be too uncomfortable. This sort of babying made for a rather rude awakening during the USJ Incident, at the very least.

She knew she did not have the worst childhood experience in her class by far. Shinsou Hitoshi had made that much clear, with his dramatic speech on their very first day, after Aizawa-sensei’s test. But the way that Izuku spoke of suffering, the way he embraced life’s hardships and made them into another part of himself, made him into the person he was, fundamentally.

It was something that Tsuyu greatly admired; it made her think of herself and her own life. She always thought that she had a good life despite the hardships she’d endured—but maybe, she lived a good life  _ because  _ of the hardships she’d endured. Her struggles were valid, because they were  _ hers.  _ And they were something Tsuyu should be proud of.

As Izuku formed his after-school training club, Tsuyu gravitated toward him, alongside Hitoshi, Ochako, and Tenya. His work ethic was inspiring, and he somehow always made them feel better about themselves even when he thoroughly swept them off their feet in physical combat. Their hard work, sweat, and tears made them stronger. 

And when Izuku proclaimed that they'd grown, while facing down the mountains of ice that Todoroki summoned around him, while he stood on the victory podium at the Sports Festival for the world to see… Tsuyu knew that what he said was true. 

She’d changed from the person she was before, and she would continue to change as she grew in the future.

  
  
  
  


“Ocha-chan, what’s your family like?” Tsuyu asked, biting into her sandwich. She had read that asking about one’s family was a good way to get to know a friend better. 

Ochako’s chopsticks stopped midway to her mouth. “Eh?” She said. “Well, I’m an only child, and my parents both work to make ends meet.”

“Oh, mine too!” Tsuyu said. “I have two younger siblings that I typically take care of, though.”

“How nice! I’ve always wondered what it would be like to have siblings,” Ochako said, finishing her bite of katsu. 

Tsuyu pressed her lips in a flattened smile. “They’re great kids, ribbit. A handful, sometimes, since I have to take care of them, but they can’t help that. Besides, my parents are always busy working, so I don’t mind helping out where I can.”

“Ah, mine are the same way!” Ochako said. “I mean, my parents are also always working. They work in construction, actually.”

“They must be proud of you, then,” Tsuyu responded. “You’re training to be a Hero now, and all.”

The brown-haired girl sighed. “I hope so. I just don’t want to cause more trouble for them—U.A. tuition is expensive enough already. It’s a bit embarrassing to admit, but…” Ochako paused, a complicated expression crossing her face, “but that’s why I want to be a Hero, actually. I want to take care of my parents in the future, so they never have to worry about money again.” She crossed her hands in her lap, looking down.

Tsuyu had read that reassurance was also something one did for a friend. “You’re a good daughter for taking your family into consideration like that, ribbit,” she said. “I’m sure you’ll definitely reach your goal.”

“Ah, thank you for saying that, Tsuyu-chan,” Ochako said, a small smile on her face. “What about you, then? Why do you want to be a Hero? If that’s not too personal a question to ask.”

“Of course you can ask.” Tsuyu hummed. “Well, actually, between applying to U.A. and now, I think my reason to be a Hero has changed a bit. Before, I think I wanted to be a good role-model for my siblings. I was an honors student in middle school, and it just seemed natural to apply for a prestigious school from there.”

“That’s a good reason,” Ochako said. “But what about now?”

“Now…” Tsuyu said, “now, I think it’s something more than that, ribbit. I want to be a Hero so I can be a friend to everyone who needs it. I never had any friends until recently, you know, so I understand that kind of pain.” She took a sip of water, dusting herself off from her lunch. “Someone that helps others unconditionally, because they genuinely perceive others’ suffering. I think that’s the kind of Hero I want to be.”

Ochako grasped Tsuyu’s hand. “That’s a noble goal, Tsuyu-san! I hope you can achieve it one day.”

Tsuyu smiled. “I hope so, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> izuku: spouting shady jashinist doctrine left and right  
tsuyu, pointing: is this a role model
> 
> A quick chapter before we move on to our next arc! I was missing best girl Tsuyu, so she got to have her turn at the inner monologue :D  
Hope you all enjoyed, and as always thank you all for the comments & kudos!


	11. welcome to business management 101

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> School stops for nobody, least of all Izuku; Shigaraki takes a beginner's class in business management and makes it everyone's problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for cursing from Hidan; references to Ingenium’s canon injuries by Stain, and Jashinist-typical perspectives on injury and suffering.

  
  


_ Everything around him was dark. He felt like he was swimming through thick syrup, unable to see even his own body as he floated in the void. Where was he? How did he get there? _

_ Somewhere far, far in front of him, a small pinprick of light wavered weakly. It grew slowly, as if he were moving through a tunnel and the end was finally in sight. The light was simultaneously utterly void of color and every single color at once; he could hardly stand to look at it, but couldn’t seem to turn his head or shut his eyelids.  _

_ After an eternity, the light had grown enough to where he could pick out a row of silhouettes, their shapes a vague contrast against the light. They were all in a line, stretching out in front of him. He couldn’t see their faces, but he felt an instant sense of familiarity emanating from them. Focusing, he could pick out seven distinct figures. He stretched his hand out, straining as hard as he could, so close to touching them still yet so far away—  _

Izuku awoke with a gasp, clutching his blanket to his chest as he sat upright in his bed. Wiping sweat from his forehead, he glanced at his alarm clock, before sighing. It was almost seven a.m. No point in going back to sleep. 

Stumbling through his morning routine, Izuku wondered about his dream. He’d been having dreams like it for some time now. He didn’t think anything of it at first, but as it began repeating he became more and more confused by its significance. Who were those people, and why did it feel like he was getting closer to them each time?

Perhaps it was a message from Jashin? Izuku didn’t speak to the god the way that Hidan-nii did with his rituals, so maybe Jashin was finally establishing a line of contact to Izuku through divine dreams. 

(He remembered when he used to be jealous of his adopted brother’s more direct connection to the deity; when he asked, however, Hidan-nii would only ruffle his hair and grumble, “ _ this way isn’t meant for you, brat. Jashin has a unique calling for each of us in our puny little lives, and your path is different from mine. Stop crying, it means you’re special! _ ”) 

But the mysterious line of figures didn’t seem particularly connected to complex subjects like suffering. Maybe Izuku was meant to suffer from his lack of understanding of his dreams?

The slamming of the front door shook Izuku out of his thoughts. “Hidan-nii!” He called, poking his head out of his room. “You’re home! How was your night?”

“Eh, pretty fucking lame,” Hidan said. He dropped a pile of bloodstained rags next to the shoe rack, and Izuku made a mental note to run a load of laundry after school. “Didn’t sacrifice any interesting heathens, but at least most of them had some shit on them. Here, nerd, see how much that is.”

Izuku hurried over, taking the armload of pilfered wallets and setting them on their extremely stained kitchen table. He began rifling through the pouches, separating flimsy plastic cards from heavy coins and colorful paper bills. 

“How was your shitty school yesterday?” Hidan asked, slouching into the chair next to Izuku. “Any new shit-brained festivals coming up, or are your teachers finally tired of your asses?”

“It wasn’t too bad!” Izuku said. “Aizawa-sensei was telling us about how we have internships coming up, now that the Sports Festival is over. Heroes and their agencies make offers based on how they think we did at the Festival, and we get a few days to make our decisions.”

“What’s an internship?” 

“Oh, they’re basically like work-experience contracts. We provide free labor for the Heroes, they give us a taste of what their lives are like and let us ask questions.” Izuku began sorting bills by color, tossing the emptied husks of the wallets to the side.

Hidan grunted. “So… sort of like an apprenticeship, or team assignments, in my old world. Do dumb shit around the town and your ‘sensei’ supposedly trains you up. Y’know, that was literally the first fucking step of shinobi training.”

“I guess?” Izuku said. “The internships only last for a few weeks, and we get to see some Hero stuff firsthand. I’d say that U.A. handles the actual training part.”

“Eh, I don’t fucking care.” Hidan said, picking at his bloodstained fingers. “So, you get any interesting offers?”

“A bunch, actually! I think it’s because I tied with Kacchan for first, and the first-place winners always stand out the most.”

“For real?” Hidan snickered, “who’d be impressed by your dumb ass blowing out your own  _ hearing _ for an entire round? What a bunch of fucking idiots.”

“Hey, I told you, it was an accident!” Izuku protested. “I know, I shouldn’t have thrown away an entire sense like that, I would have died if it was a real situation, etc, etc, you’ve told me like a million times!”

“And I’ll keep telling you, brat, until you’ve learned your fuckin’ lesson.”

“Anyway,” Izuku interrupted quickly, changing the subject before Hidan could get too creative about said lessons. “Speaking of offers, I actually wanted to ask you for any advice on who to choose, Hidan-nii. I know you’re not into the whole ‘thinking thing,’ as you put it, but you probably have some experience with finding a good sensei, right?”

Hidan shrugged. “Just choose the strongest person. It’s not that complicated, nerd.” He frowned over the now-sorted piles of cash on the table as Izuku began cataloguing the stack of credit cards. “You said it doesn’t even last that long, right? It’s not going to leave that much impact on you in the future, anyway. I’ve been training you for fuckin’  _ years _ , you think a month of hanging around some heathen will make you that much better?” His voice lifted in what was nearly a whine at the end. 

“Of course not,” Izuku assured, “but it would be nice to get a fresh perspective on One For All, and there are some pretty prolific Heroes making offers. Besides, we’re all required to choose an internship anyway, so I might as well put some thought into that decision.” 

“Just don’t choose some pansy-ass bitch and you’ll be fine,” Hidan said, propping his feet onto the table. “You got anyone in mind already?”

“Maybe,” Izuku said. “All Might told me that one of the offers I received was from his old sensei. Gran Torino is his name, I think.”

“If he taught All Might then he’s strong, right?” Hidan said. “Go with him, then. Quit overthinking this shit.”

Izuku scooped up Hidan’s spoils from the table, having finished sorting and tallying the money. The cash went into a drawer dedicated for monetary purposes, while the credit cards, ID’s, and other such paraphernalia went into the target-practice pile, ready to be destroyed beyond during their next training session. 

“I suppose you’re right, for once,” Izuku said, ducking the resulting swipe at his head. “Oh, something else interesting, we also chose our Hero names, since we’ll be working in the field now.”

“Hero names are fucking stupid,” Hidan sniffed. “A name that your enemies give you out of fear is way more powerful than some cringe-ass nickname you make up for yourself, anyway.”

“Did you have any interesting nicknames, then?” Izuku asked. 

“Not really,” Hidan said. “I mean, Akatsuki was a secret organization. Emphasis on secret. We couldn’t exactly afford to go around telling people exactly who we were.” 

Izuku pouted in disappointment. “Aww, really? Not even a single name?”

“Well, there was…” Hidan paused, seemingly lost in thought, before shaking his head. “No, no, that doesn’t count.” 

Sensing a weak point, Izuku pressed, “what? Please, tell me! Was it a cool name?”

“I said it doesn’t fucking count!” Hidan snarled, slamming his fist into the table.

“Plea-a-a-se, Hidan-nii!” Izuku said. “I need to know if the name I chose lives up to your reputation!”

“I—wait, what did you choose for your nerd name?”

“If I tell you, you have to tell me your nickname!” 

“Fucking fine, scrub,” Hidan groaned, “now spill.”

Izuku hummed thoughtfully. “Well, I didn’t really want to name myself after anything. All-Might Jr. would have been too obvious, since we’re keeping One For All a secret, and All Might wants me to make my own path as it is. And I couldn’t use Jashin’s name either, that definitely would have raised way more alarm bells, not to mention it feels kind of blasphemous too.”

“Just get to the point, nerd.”

“Okay, okay,” Izuku said. “I ended up just going with ‘Izuku.’ I decided that I just want to be myself. I shouldn’t need some grand Hero persona to be a Hero and help people, right?”

A beat, and then Hidan threw his head back, laughing. “That’s so boring! Ahaha, imagine getting your ass kicked as a Villain, and then finding out the Hero who beat you was just named fucking  _ Izuku _ or whatever !”

“Plenty of Heroes use their own names,” Izuku protested, before coming to his senses. “Hey, wait, now you have to tell me your cool shinobi nickname! Don’t think you can distract me.”

“...” Hidan grumbled, previous mirth forgotten. “It’s… really not a cool name, it’s just something stupid Kisame screwed us over with…”

“‘Us?’ Did you share your nickname with someone?”

Hidan groaned. “Yeah, that shit-eating miser of a heathen, Kakuzu. A complete waste of space, but I guess we had a pretty compatible moveset, so Pein always made us partner up. His entire body was made of these weird-ass steel threads that he used to attack, and he stole other shinobi’s hearts for himself to be able to use all sorts of different abilities. Mainly, he had a fucking terrible temper and kept killing his partners, but if he killed me he could just sew me back up afterward.”

“So?” Izuku prompted, “what was your nickname?”

Sighing deeply, Hidan put his face into his hands. “...the Zombie Combo.” And then: “QUIT FUCKING LAUGHING, IZUKU! I’LL BEAT YOUR ASS!”

  
  
  


— — — — — 

  
  
  


After dancing awkwardly around the subject all morning, Tsuyu was the first to test the waters. “...Hey, Tenya-kun, how’s your brother doing?”

Uraraka and Hitoshi stiffened a bit, carefully gauging Iida’s blank face. Midoriya seemed oblivious to the tension, as usual.

Iida was silent for a second. “...He’s fine, thank you for your concern. He simply needs time to recuperate in the hospital.”

Uraraka smiled tentatively. “That’s great news, Iida-san! We’re all so glad to hear that!”

“We were all so worried when we heard the news about Ingenium,” Tsuyu said. “Please let us know if we can do anything to support you and your family right now.”

Izuku nodded. “You and your family must be suffering right now, so take it easy!”

Hitoshi scratched his head. “Sure hope they catch the bastard that did it. Someone like that needs to be locked away for a long time.”

“The proper authorities are performing a full investigation to the best of their abilities,” Iida replied stiffly. “But I am just grateful that my brother is alive. I apologize if you all were concerned after the Sports Festival, I didn’t intend to put a damper on everyone’s celebrations.”

“Don’t apologize, Iida-san!” Uraraka exclaimed. “That’s what friends are for!”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it, Iida,” Hitoshi said. “This is definitely not your fault.”

And that should have been the end of that, but of course, nothing could go quite as planned with Midoriya around. 

“You know, Iida-san,” Midoriya began, “this could be a good thing!”

“...what are you talking about, Midoriya?”

Midoriya smiled his signature smile. “I mean, as a Hero, your brother accepted this level of risk by entering into the job field that he did. An accident like this is just a reminder to never take your life for granted.

“Further, you could see this as a blessing from Jashin himself, to suffer physically like this and understand the limits of our mortality. This can only make Ingenium-san a stronger person in the future, having known pain like this in the present. You should be proud of your brother for suffering well, Iida-san!”

Hitoshi tried to interrupt. “Midoriya—” 

But before he could get a word in, Iida abruptly stood. His chair flew backwards, clattering onto the ground as he slammed his palms onto his desk. The classroom lights glanced off his glasses lenses, obscuring his eyes and hiding his expression.

“Excuse me,” he said, before walking out of the classroom. 

The silence in the aftermath was stifling. Hitoshi eyed Midoriya out of the corner of his eye balefully.

Midoriya hummed. “Well, that didn’t go how I intended at all.”

  
  
  


— — — — — 

  
  
  


Shigaraki found Hidan in the dusty depths of the alley beside Kurogiri’s bar, covered in blood and desecrating a mangled corpse. 

He scratched at the rough, flaking skin of his cheek in bemusement as the gray-haired man rifled through the corpse’s pockets, heedless of the dark stains soaking into his sleeves, the stench of coagulating blood coating the air. 

This could not  _ possibly  _ be the same character that Kurogiri claimed was some kind of tactical genius. There was no way could he have the foresight to save the League of Villains from blundering into the U.A. Sports Festival and damage their image in the long run, but then struggle to untangle a string of bloodied intestines off of his scythe (which weren’t even that tangled—Hidan just couldn’t seem to comprehend that he had to locate the end of the intestines and begin unlooping them from there).

But he had to at least try to speak with Hidan. Sensei would be disappointed in him, otherwise.

Shigaraki cleared his throat. “Hey, you. Hidan.” 

“What the fuck do you want?” Hidan replied, without an ounce of surprise. How did he know Shigaraki was there? “I’m fucking busy, can’t you see?”

Wrinkling his nose and grateful for the hand blocking the majority of his face, Shigaraki stepped into the alleyway. “I just want to talk. Surely you have enough CPU up there to speak and do… whatever it is that you’re doing, at the same time.”

“...make it fast,” Hidan grunted.

“Fine. You were the one who spoke to Kurogiri about keeping the League out of the Sports Festival, yes?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess so.” Hidan finally finished cleaning his scythe, and wiped his hands off on the corpse’s clothes. 

“Well—as the boss of the League of Villains, and all, I guess I appreciate that. I think.”

Hidan sneered. “You trynna say ‘thank you,’ heathen? Shittiest thanks I’ve ever gotten, that’s for sure.”

“Don’t forget you’re talking to your boss, you extra,” Shigaraki snapped back. “I’m just saying, your advice may not be the worst in the world.”

“Heh!” Hidan said. “I mean, I’m just that great.”

This man was completely, utterly infuriating to speak to. Shigaraki just barely remembered not to close his hands into fists.  _ Deep breaths, Tomura.  _

But maybe, having an irritating underling wasn’t the worst thing in the world. As a Villain, and as a leader of a Villain organization, Shigaraki would need to be at the top of his game constantly to keep the Heroes on their toes. A voice like Hidan’s would help him to consider more potential avenues for mayhem, be it a suggestion from the man or inspired by his actions. 

Plus, Shigaraki wouldn’t feel bad at all at the prospect of throwing the gray-haired man to the wolves when the final boss fight rolled around. 

“Well, if that’s all, I wanna get a fucking drink,” Hidan said, interrupting Shigaraki’s thoughts. He stood from where he’d been crouched over what was now a lump of raw meat, ambling toward the mouth of the alley and closer to Shigaraki. 

He was… not as tall as Shigaraki thought he was, only a couple of centimeters taller than himself. Perhaps it was the man’s violent personality that made him seem larger than life. 

“I did want to speak to you about one other thing,” Shigaraki said, casting about for the right words. 

“Spit it out, then.” Hidan said. “I don’t have all day, bitch.”

“If you would just stop and listen for a second,” Shigaraki scowled. “I’m trying to ask if you want to become my advisor. You have some good things to say, sometimes, and you fight rather well compared to the rest of the NPC’s in the League. A boss needs his minibosses to make the fight interesting.”

This gave Hidan pause. “You—what?”

“Your words about the Sports Festival.” Shigaraki scratched at his cheek again, “they made me think some more about the bigger picture of the plot, about how we should try to turn the public against Heroes. That’s what you were talking about, right?”

Violet eyes squinted at him. “Uh, sure.”

Shigaraki nodded, warming up to his own suggestion. “Yeah, yeah, you’ve got both brains and brawn, a well-balanced character… you know, we let you do mostly whatever you want in terms of murder sprees most of the time. I think a fair trade is in order here, don’t you?”

“What do you fucking mean?” Hidan said. “I helped you keep your ass out of the Sports Festival, didn’t I?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Shigaraki said. “You give us more advice like that, and we let you continue doing whatever you like, _ and _ we promote you to being more than just a foot soldier.”

For such a smart man, Hidan seemed to be doing an excellent impression of a confused face. Shigaraki chalked it up to the dim lighting of the alley.

“I’m saying, you should be… what do you call it?” Shigaraki said. “Ah, yes. You should become our public relations manager. All the Heroes have them, why shouldn’t the Villains have one as well?”

Yes, Shigaraki was truly thoughtful. Sensei would be proud of him when he heard about how he was improving the League of Villains. 

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shigaraki, handing hidan an iphone: your first assignment is to make us an instagram account  
hidan: suspended for violating community guidelines world record speedrun
> 
> We are transitioning into the internship/Hero Killer Arc! Exciting things to come, namely: Stain, Gran Torino, and Nomu Part 2: Electric Boogaloo.  
For those worried about Izuku and Iida, they are going to reconcile, worry not! The situation with Ingenium is something I felt was a great opportunity to show the dark sides of Jashinism—fundamentally, it’s not a nice religion. It celebrates suffering and pain, regardless of context. Izuku has managed to get away with presenting it as this sort of motivating philosophy, but here is where some holes start to show. 
> 
> Hope you all enjoy this chapter!


End file.
